Of Blood and Bondage
by sweetPixiesmile
Summary: The villains have been quiet. So much so that Team Possible is taking a much deserved break in more ways than one, until Doctor Drakken appears at Kim's home, bloody and dying. Set after Season 4. Ron/Yori, Bet/Viv, KiGo.
1. Chapter 1: Uncertainty

**Chapter One: Uncertainty**

**Blood and Bondage**

**By sweetpixiesmile**

Disclaimer: Kim Possible and all related characters are the property of Disney. I don't own any of that and I'm using them without permission. I do own a couple of characters so far, but that's it. This is also a non-profit venture; if you take anything from it, just slap my name on it.

A/N: My very first chappie and publicly posted writing! I'm looking forward to the reviews!

* * *

_Interlude_

_My life has just taken a turn for -_**Weirdsville-**_._

_There I was with Dr. D in the lair; he was spouting off as usual after I heisted a CD when out of the corner of my eye, I see... damnit I can't even believe what I saw today. I can't believe that bitch Director. Is she soooo hard up that she has to send a fuckin' -_**kid-**_ to stop me and Dr. D? In cargos and a black mid-riff tee? What, she'd kill me with cuteness? Not too bright though... just one flip of a switch and they were shark bait... well, ok, I mean, she did have some moves, since she got out of the shark pool and we had to get away after she caused the lair to chain react. Kim Possible, teen dork and chum._

_You know, what I wanna know is why the fuck does all Drakken's lair's have chain reaction kablooies?_

_Turns out the girlie is a fuckin' -_**cheerleader-**_. Gawd I -_**hate-**_ cheerleaders._

_The upshot of the whole deal was we got a soaker and nothing to show for it. Well, I did get to test my jailbreak skills again._

_I'm gonna have to keep an eye out for this kid._

* * *

_This day was -_**so-**_ the drama._

_Wade called, saying we got a hit on the site about something getting stolen from Professor Akari. We took a ride down the Amazon; beautiful, warm and green. When Wade ran the video, and I saw a shadow crush the camera, it was like lightning shot down my spine. I asked Wade to rewind and pause..._

_How could I know that this day would bring something I thought I'd buried a million years ago back to the light of day? I knew who she was. I knew that face. But I had never told anyone about... that. Not Wade. Not Mom and Dad. Not even Ron. My mind was totally OH. MY. GAWD... I pretended I didn't know her, because of my little secret. But it was -_**her-**_. My hero. My Judas._

_No mistake. Like someone else has green skin and plasma?_

_When I saw her in the shark pit, I couldn't believe she was hanging around this blue guy who was just so full of himself. And although I knew we needed to take her in, I was ... sort of glad we didn't. After getting out of the lair and getting Professor Akari's disk back, I made the place go up like one of Jim and Tim's homemade fireworks, and she grabbed the blue guy and took off while we made a high dive into the water below._

_They came after us later. Ron got their explosive nanotick off my face, but it was just so cool when she and I tangled in Bueno Nacho. And we won! I heard she broke out again in no time afterwards though..._

_This, it just felt great. I'd been training for this even before I got into cheerleading. Deep sea diving, world travel, meeting new people... This is so totally my thing._

_But I never thought I'd ever say her name again._

**-Shego-**_._

* * *

**Chapter One: Uncertainty**

She sat in the high mountains of her birth, waiting for a sign. She was not sure what that sign might be, or if it would soothe the tumult that plagued her since that fateful day. She sat in the lotus position, meditating on a pedestal of smooth boulders, the fall of a high mountain stream striking her shoulders and back. The spray sparkled in the crisp thin air as she sought a solace that had departed from her so long ago. The water spread in a pool beneath her perch before skipping down a long scarp of boulders and schist. And as she meditated, time seemed to slow, turning into a molasses of moments. Her senses sharpened, her awareness expanding to encompass the dragon fly that buzzed lazily in an eddy down stream, the flap of a hawk's wings high in the sky as she searched for prey, the fall of stealthy footsteps on the path from the school.

A short, skinny girl dressed in a midnight blue keikogi (1) was working her way up the steep pebble strewn path, a scowl on her young face. She stopped and shielded her eyes with a slim hand under short cropped black hair at the tiny figure underneath the falls of enlightenment. She snorted with disgust at the distance she had yet to travel. Why did Yori-sempai (2) visit the Pool of Purification so often since her last trip to America so many years ago? She did not fail missions, and Dai Sensei (3) had elevated her to master status, giving her the only crimson shinobi shozoku (4) to be awarded since Dai Sensei received his. This made her scowl again at Dai Sensei's instruction not to use any ninjutsu (5) or kuji-in (6) in her ascent to the pool.

She was sure it was because of the prank she had pulled on Shiro earlier, but how had Dai Sensei known that she was behind the birds nest in the futon? She was sure she had removed any telltale signs and Shiro had just laughed when he discovered the hatchlings and the distraught parents.

By the time she reached the shelf of boulders under the falls, she was red faced and panting. She wondered at her conditioning as she gulped for breath, her hands on her knees. A sudden shadow caused her to look up beyond Yori to see a large tree trunk was just starting to slide down the falls. She opened her mouth to call a warning.

"Do not trouble yourself, Keiko," a soft voice spoke by her ear. Keiko stiffened as her mouth snapped shut. She was glad that her face was already red from exertion. She turned as the trunk shattered upon the meditation rock to see Yori lean back, her hair dark as midnight dripping in rich wet ringlets, and her tanned toned skin under a clinging half open white kimono (7)...

"Y-yori-sempai!" was the strangled exclamation. Keiko spun about, her face a bright red.

"At least, I have an affect on some," Yori muttered, too low for Keiko to hear, as she retied her kimono, and then louder, "please give me the message."

"D-dai Sensei has sent for you," Keiko replied as she risked a peek. Seeing Yori's gi back in place, she turned as bowed, attempting to focus her eyes on Yori's face, noting how the kimono clung to her sempai and was almost wetly transparent. She gulped. "He has not told me why," she said with a slight tremble in her voice.

Yori nodded. "And he told you to walk up here?" Keiko nodded as she straightened. Yori sighed. What were they going to do with the two pranksters? "You should know by now that any pranks will only draw attention to you two. Especially since the Autumn Festival." Yori still had trouble figuring out how the two had altered the fireworks to create such embarrassing images. If they only applied their brilliance to their training. "Did Dai Sensei give any further instruction?"

"No, sempai."

"Then you may fast step back and let Dai Sensei know I will see him as soon as I am able."

"Yes, sempai!" With a quick bow and a rustle of leaves, Keiko jumped into the trees and was gone.

Perhaps this would be her sign, but her heart did not feel any better.

* * *

By the time Yori had changed into her shozoku and knelt before Dai Sensei's shoji, the afternoon mealtime gong had sounded. Most of the students had retired to duel with cook-san for their meal and the grounds of the Yamanouchi were once again tranquil.

"Enter," came the deep and kindly voice of Dai Sensei.

Yori slid the shoji (8) open and entered turning and kneeling to shut the shoji before continuing further. The 12 tatami-jō (9) washitsu (10) was separated by another set of shoji, which was open. A low table sat before a low walled window overlooking the school grounds. A top the table, a dark clay teapot sat on a brazier, with two ceramic cups on a tray. Across from the entrance and beyond the inner shoji was an elevated platform and Dai Sensei.

Dai Sensei dressed in his habitual black trimmed yellow kamishimo (11) and black hakama (12), floated a foot above the ground in a seated lotus position. Yori could feel his aura wash over her like a warm embrace, knowing few others could perceive it as minutely, such as the young blond boy that plagued her still... She once again took strict hold of her thoughts and put it aside in its place, and settled into seiza (13) near the Master of the Yamanouchi Ninja School and waited. As the teapot began to steam, Dai Sensei lowered to the ground and his aura faded.

"Yori," he said as his eyes opened. His fond smile could not be hidden by his long full mustache.

"I have come at your summons, Dai Sensei," she said formally, bowing slightly. At that Dai Sensei and Yori stood and embraced.

"It is good to see you, ojiisan (14)," Yori said squeezing the old man once more. She carefully hid her shock from her face. Had Dai Sensei always been this thin?

"And you, my little tessen (15)," as he leaned back, holding her upper arms to look at her. "You have grown into a fine ninja warrior and a young woman too." Yori gave a small smile and bowed again.

"Thank you, ojiisan."

"Please, I would be honored if my granddaughter would pour me some tea," he said as he gestured towards his balcony that overlooked the Yamanouchi grounds. Yori smiled.

"It would be my honor to do so."

After pouring tea for Dai Sensei and herself, they sat at the low table for several minutes, listening to the mountain air and the call of the swallows. As the time inched by, Yori wrestled fiercely with her curiosity and remained impassive and calm. Students returned from their afternoon meal; she could tell that some were still not quick enough for Master Cook-san. But this thought only brought her more turmoil, and she pushed aside memories that she wished to forget.

"You have progressed very far, my granddaughter," Dai Sensei spoke as the sound of training resumed again in the courtyard below. "You have mastered every technique of the Tai Sheng Pek Kwar has held, since the founder began our school, the Monkey Claw and the 6 forms. You have even attained the crimson shozoku, something that none has done since I achieved mine." He paused, his eyes searching the sky. Yori waited patiently.

"Yamanouchi has stood over a thousand years and a thousand wars as a bringer of light and hope. We have avoided all the petty squabbles of feudal societies, the crushing desolation of imperialist dogma and the slow leeching of globalization." Dai Sensei stopped there to consider his next words.

"Ojiisan," Yori ventured. "You are speaking of the future of Yamanouchi and not the past."

"Ah, my little tessen," he smiled. "You have always been clever as you have been wise. The future is now very uncertain for us. You are the only descendant of the founder, Toshimiru to take up the mantle and burden of guarding the Lotus Blade and Tai Sheng Pek Kwar. Of all the students and heirs of other clans, you have excelled far beyond my expectations. However, I am getting old, very old. It is near time that the mantle be received by the new Dai Sensei." Yori remained silent. It seemed that a day that she prayed that would not come had arrived, and her heart prevented her from speaking, even as she performed a quick breathing exercise to calm the spirit to preserve her wa (16). She waited for her fate to be decided by the man she loved as her grandfather.

"You know as well as I that some traditions must be upheld. As a recognized master of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar and a direct descendant of Toshimiru, it is your duty to take the mantle of Dai Sensei, or to find a replacement. You also know that if you find a replacement, he must first be worthy of the school and you must marry him." Then Dai Sensei scratched his head for a moment. "Yet there is a ripple in this otherwise tranquil pond." Yori sat back to consider.

"You speak of the Mystical Monkey Power."

"Yes. Traditionally, you would have chosen a worthy member of another society in the martial word, but in this moment, there are very few who can attain the perfection of Monkey Kung Fu and all it's forms. Not only that, we must continue to guard the lotus blade and defend against Yono the Destroyer." Yori knew where this was leading, and bit her lip in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

"Ojiisan..." she started, and then cleared her throat. "Monkey Fist is a statue and Rufus is not human." Dai Sensei said nothing as she avoided speaking about a certain blonde American and turned toward her.

"You may have tonight to think on your decision, but you must tell me before the sun rises as I am expecting a very important visitor." Yori knew her answer, but Dai Sensei held up his hand before she could speak. "Yori, you are as dependable as your name. But in this I will not use tradition, status or affection to sway your decision. Speak to me before the sun rises, but not before tonight's supper."

"Yes, Dai Sensei." She withdrew as silently as she came. As she shut the shoji behind her, Dai Sensei sighed. It was days like this that made him feel older than his years.

Yori wandered the Yamanouchi grounds as her mind and heart raced. Her body was telling her to run, to take to the tress and become nukenin (17). Her mind was coming up with all sorts of strange scenarios, from going to find Ron Stoppable before her fated marriage and despoiling him, to committing suicide, to carrying on torrid affairs behind her new husband's back. And her heart... her heart lay in ashes.

Eventually, she found herself standing in the rock garden nestled in a small courtyard behind the main building. She hopped lightly onto the central stone and began to meditate, to rebuild her wa and to ponder the future.

* * *

"Keiko, why are we following Yori-sempai?" A bronze haired boy whispered to the raven haired girl. They lay against the ceramic tiles that covered the back of the main building, watching a small figure meditating in the center of a rock garden. The smaller ninja waved at him for quiet.

Keiko had seen Yori leave Dai Sensei's quarters and knew instinctively that something had greatly upset the woman. Fear of punishment had never stood a chance against curiousity; Keiko's fierce attachment to her sempai alternately amused and annoyed Shiro. And their sempai had led them a merry chase, seemingly wandering aimlessly until stopping at the only place on the grounds that prevented them from getting close before being seen.

Shiro sighed quietly as Keiko fixed the distant ninja with an intense gaze.

"Yori-sempai was summoned by Dai Sensei, and when she left, she was very upset."

"Hmm, it would take something extreme to unsettle her… especially with all the time she spends meditating." Shiro turned and stared up into the sky as he rubbed his chin. "But I thought that perhaps it was because of the crimson shozoku that she received. Ah!" Shiro turned again, his eyes alight with realization. "Perhaps Dai Sensei has talked to her about taking his place!" Keiko was silent.

Shiro turned to look at her as she shook her head.

"I do not believe that would disturb her…. Wait! Remember what Hitoshi-sensei was saying yesterday about being the Master of Yamanouchi in history class?"

"Eh?" Shiro's brow furrowed. "You mean how they get tea flown in from China?" He grinned as he blocked Keiko's annoyed slap to his head.

"No, baka! They have to be married!" Their shocked expressions mirrored each other and they slowly turned to look at the still figure in the distance. "For Yori-sempai, it doesn't matter either way. She's the only crimson shozoku in 3 generations and she's also directly descended from the Founder! Even if she declines the mantle, she must still marry the new Master!"

"Ok, yeah, that would do it I guess," Shiro muttered in a low voice. Then he rubbed the back of his neck. "But who would be worthy of her? And who would know enough martial arts to master Tai Sheng Pek Kwar?" Keiko hissed at Shiro suddenly, holding a finger to his lips. He remained quiet as she took her hand away, knowing that between them, Keiko had the better awareness of auras. He turned to look at their sempai.

* * *

Yori's breathing was slow and steady as she meditated, her thoughts calm. And then she spoke.

"How are you, Hirotaka-kun?"

In a moment, a laugh sounded behind her and a tall well built Asian in a black leather jacket, blue jeans and dark red t-shirt slowly coalesced into visibility, pulling off a black motorcycle helmet. His handsome face wore his familiar smug expression, and he stood with a confidence that was at once dangerous and alluring. He balanced easily on two stones that ringed a small bonsai near her.

"I could never sneak up on you, Yori-chan," he said, chuckling. Yori leapt down and embrace him. In the distance, a muffled yelp sounded and Hirotaka gave a knowing smile. "I see you still inspire kohais (18) to mischief."

"You smell like dust and gasoline," she said, slapping his arm playfully. "When did you arrive?"

"Just a few minutes ago." He looked around. "This place still looks the same. But some things change for the better," Hirotaka looked at Yori. She laughed again.

"And some still think they can talk themselves out of anything…. Or into anything as in your case." Yori turned slightly, her mind churning furiously. Hirotaka, one of the most accomplished of the school, returned from his world travels. Yori did not believe in coincidences such as this.

"Well, some things still call to you even if you leave them behind," he quipped, tucking his helmet under his arm. "Walk with me? I'm on my way to wash up." He jerked his thumb at the main building.

"I suppose someone must defend your honour from all the fangirls," Yori gave a big sigh as they started off. "Still, it has been too long since I have seen you. What have you been up to?"

"Oh you know, training in the Shaolin styles, this year. Before that I was in West Africa with some capoeira (19) experts; it's great for clubbing, but as an art…?" Hirotaka shrugged his muscular shoulders. "Not quite my style."

"Who knew you would have such a wanderlust? Have you been to see your family?" Yori asked as they entered the Main Hall. Hirotaka shrugged.

"I have not seen them in 4 years, but once I finish my business here, I will spend some time at home." Yori was silent for a moment. It was during his first trip out of the country that sparked this interest in global adventuring in Hirotaka, 2 weeks in a little place called Middleton. A special place. Shifting his helmet, Hirotaka gave Yori a sidelong glance.

"I ran into you Stoppable-san and Possible-san recently. They assisted us in saving a village that was threatened by the winter rains near the temple I was at." Although Yori's expression or demeanor did not change, the leather clad ninja felt the spike in her toushi (20), her spiritual aura, as if someone had quickly opened a colossal door to a blast furnace, then slammed it shut an instant later. "Possible-san has such gadgets! She used her hairdryer to prevent the mud from liquidating and washing the people away."

"They are great warriors, with great honour and compassion," was her reply as her heart seemed to seize in her chest. They paused outside the men's change room.

"How long will you stay? It would be very pleasing for us to speak, after such a long parting."

"I am here at Dai Sensei's summons," he began, his dark eyes on hers. "He has asked me to attend him during supper at his office. Afterwards?" He shrugged, his old road armor creaking slightly. "Who knows how long." With a nod and a smile, he entered the locker room.

Yori stood still for a moment, her thoughts whirling. Dai Sensei speaking to her about the mantle, subtly asking for an answer by dinner time. Hirotaka, at Dai Sensei's summons appears the same day. Could it be…? She blinked and turned, seeing a small cluster of giggling students at the end of the corridor rush off. She sighed and headed out of the main hall. Hirotaka always had this affect wherever he went. Girls flocked to his side, regardless of who his companion was. She had never felt any feelings for her handsome childhood friend.

She left the building and wandered the grounds, thinking.

Hirotaka was an accomplished fighter, well traveled and well seasoned. He had great fighting sense and intuition. He was courteous and level-headed, and although his manner was welcoming, he was better than anyone at keeping secrets. Could Dai Sensei think that he might be worthy of the mantle, should Yori decline it? Could she see herself married to him, while her heart…. was caught by another? She was sure that Hirotaka knew of her affections, and also that he would keep her secret and not hold it against her. Would that sour his affection to bitterness? No, Yori did not think so. She knew that she was well and able in training, but to lead with wisdom and foresight…. That was not for her. In the distance, the dinner gong sounded.

With a nod, Yori turned and headed to Dai Sensei's quarters to deliver her answer.

* * *

Keiko suddenly stood up from behind the bonsai bushes that she and Shiro crouched behind as Yori walked away. Shiro rubbed the back of his head.

"What is it?" Shiro looked up at his diminutive friend, her short cropped hair glimmering in the light of the setting sun.

"She's decided… Yori-sempai has decided! Will she take the mantle? Or will she step down? Either way she will get married… she can't! " Keiko looked frantic, her eyes wide as she babbled. Shiro stood and held up his hands.

"Why not? It's her choice. Besides, she looks pretty chummy with that guy," Shiro shrugged. It was none of their business as far as he could tell. Keiko's head snapped up and Shiro backed a step from the intensity of her glare.

"Shut up! And who IS that guy anyway? How dare he get a hug from Yori-sempai!" Keiko stamped her foot as she turned back to watch Yori disappear.

"Oookaaay," Shiro backed another step. "Now you're really starting to scare me, Chouko (21)." He hoped using her nickname might bring her back to the land of the sane. Keiko whirled, tears in her eyes and Shiro realized with a sinking feeling that he'd said the wrong thing.

"You don't understand anything!" She screamed at him and ran off sobbing.

With a sigh, Shiro followed her.

* * *

Hirotaka arrived at Dai Sensei's to find Yori waiting outside the shoji. He settled into his own seiza beside her. Her eyes were closed in meditation, but her aura seemed to pulse fiercely, belying her calm appearance. He wondered what had happened to this self-possessed young woman over the years for her aura to fluctuate so wildly. Ron Stoppable had only been at the school for a few weeks, yet at the mere mention of his name, Yori's wa seemed to shatter. How could he affect his childhood friend so? Even he could not normally affect her inner being to such an extent. He also knew that Dai Sensei would not have summoned him after so long if there were not dire things afoot. He began to build his own wa, grain by grain, pebble by pebble as he had been taught as a child.

Yori's mind was still a whirl of emotions. Although Sensei had always taught that one must not fight fate and the whims of destiny, but to embrace it, she realized that she simply could not accept what seemed like her own. She knew that with such a spirit, hers would only sicken and die, or worse, allow evil into her heart. This she must lay bare before Sensei; it would be shameful, yes, but to lie to both herself and others would be worse. It was settled. She would speak the truth of her secret, one that she had harboured for so many seasons and let the kamikaze take from her what it would. She opened her eyes as the shoji opened.

Dai Sensei stood there for a moment.

"Ah, my two best and brightest students are here, Possible-san!" Yori's eyes did not betray her surprise, but of a sudden, her heart began to hammer. If Possible-san was here…. HE would be at her side. Sensei stepped aside, saying, "you may enter and greet Possible-san."

Yori's eyes stared fixedly at Hirotaka's back as they entered, then when they turned she nearly gasped. Before them, sitting at the table that Yori earlier had sat drinking tea, was an elderly lady with rectangular spectacles, wearing a sweater and a long skirt. She and Hirotaka bowed deeply as befitting a good friend of Dai Sensei.

"It is an honour to meet you, Possible-san," she said. "I am Yori."

"And I am Hirotaka," said her childhood friend.

As they straightened, Yori thought she detected an amused glint in the old woman's eyes. Then she gave a slight bow.

"As I am honoured to meet the students of Ichi-kun." Sensei laughed. Hirotaka's eyes widened. This was the first time he had EVER heard Dai Sensei's birth name! His mind reeled. What could this old gaikokujin (22) be, to be so familiar to him? "Although I dare say, you were expecting a different person."

"You do not need to be so formal, Carolyn-chan." Dai Sensei sat back down across from his guest. He gestured for them to sit at the end of the table facing the grounds. Yori noticed that the inner shoji had been closed.

"It has been too many years, Ichi-kun," she said, giving Dai Sensei a small smile. "I just wanted to kick your butt one more time before I got too old to travel." Yori and Hirotaka could not believe their ears.

"Ah!" Dai Sensei chuckled. "You are still sore that I chose the school over you."

"You were always so hotheaded and obstinate! I wonder if that has rubbed off on your students?"

"Some of them may need it, but I know your granddaughter has fully inherited yours!"

And then they both laughed. LAUGHED! Hirotaka's mouth was slightly open as he listened to the banter. What was really going on?

"I had better get some rest you old monkey," she finally said. "I may not be old, but the jet lag is still hard."

"Hirotaka," Dai Sensei said, wiping away a tear. "Please escort Carolyn-san to the Lotus Room. She will be staying here for some time. Please address her as Carolyn-sama."

"Hai, Dai Sensei." Hirotaka bowed and moved to the shoji, awaiting the old lady, who stood with Dai Sensei and gave him a kiss on his wizened cheek.

"Tomorrow, Ichi-kun." With that, she left with Hirotaka and the shoji shut with a soft clack.

"Did you change your gear 'cause, Master Sensei, I can't remember how to tie this thing," came a voice that caused Yori to freeze, her heart beating like a rabbit caught in a hunters snare. A corner of the inner shoji burst with a hand sticking through it. "Aw, man!" The hand turned and shoved the shoji open.

"Sorry, Master Sensei," said an abashed Ron Stoppable. He was once again dressed in the black shozoku that he wore on his previous visit, but with legging loose and the ties in his hand.

Yori stumbled drunkenly to her feet. "St-stoppable-s-san?" He stopped and looked up. A grin came to his silly, wonderful, freckled American face.

"Heeey! Yori! Long time no see!"

For the first time in her life, Yori, the sole heir of the Great Founder of Yamanouchi, the sole holder of the crimson shozoku in three generations and unsurpassed ninja, fainted dead away.

* * *

Footnotes:

(1) Keikogi - Japanese martial arts training uniform

(2) Sempai – an honorific used for upperclass students that can also be used as a title. Other honourifics like –sama (for a leader or much higher ranked person) or –san (formal address) or –kun and –chan (informal) are also used.

(3) Dai Sensei – For schools with more than one Sensei, and to separate the use of "grandmaster" Dai Sensei literally is Great Teacher or Master Teacher.

(4) Shozoku – The traditional full covering ninja clothing.

(5) Ninjutsu – The art of stealth.

(6) Kuji-In – One branch of ninja-magic, sometimes termed ninpo.

(7) Kimono – a thin short robe that falls to the mid thigh, usually worn as an undergarment.

(8) Shoji – a traditional Japanese paper door

(9) tatami-jō – How rooms are traditional measured in Japan. Tatami's or bamboo mats are a standardized size.

(10) Washitsu – A traditional Japanese room.

(11) Kamishimo – Worn by samurai and court men, the outfit included a formal kimono, hakama, and a sleeveless jacket with exaggerated shoulders called a kataginu

(12) Hakama – A Traditional pleated skirt.

(13) Seiza – A formal sitting position where one kneels and tucks their legs under the thighs, with the buttocks resting on the feet whose tops are flat against the ground, usually used when on tatamis.

(14) Ojiisan – "Grandfather". Can be a term of endearment or a true relationship.

(15) Tessen - Japanese war fan.

(16) Wa – A zen teaching of "harmony" or "peace". A personal discipline of meditation.

(17) Nukenin – Rogue ninja, just as ronin means masterless samurai.

(18) Kohai – same as Sempai but for underclassmen.

(19) Capoeira – A form of martial art that originated in Brazil created by African slaves. It was treated as a game to throw off the slave masters and is characterized by fluid acrobatics and extensive ground work, kicks and sweeps.

(20) Toushi – Fighting spirit, or spiritual aura.

(21) Chouko – Butterfly.

(22) Gaikokujin – Japanese for person from a foreign land.


	2. Chapter 2: Dyspnoea

**Blood and Bondage**

**by sweetpixiesmile**

**A/N**: Thanks to all who wrote reviews both at and here.

(1) Dyspnoea - refers to the sensation of shortness of breath or difficulty breathing. It is an extremely common symptom but can be both distressing and frightening for sufferers and their caregivers.

(2) My nod to StarvingLunatic that introduced me to the fanfiction madness that is KiGo. Taken from Walking the Line, where Shego explains to Kim how her relationship with Drakken began with him continually hiring her to protect his "shit" from being "jacked." Ok, it's a bit weak for a nod, but still, I wanted it out there.

Enjoy!

* * *

_Second Interlude_

_This Halloween's been the most entertaining yet. -_**Someone**_- was tricking but not getting -_**any**_- treats!_

_Dr. D dragged me all over the hick-berg Middleton looking for Pumpkin and the Centuri-whatsis. But with each stop, it just felt weirder and weirder. I was feeling... disappointed? Like I just couldn't wait to sink my claws into a certain Princess's smooth pink skin. And that shaft obsessed kilt-wearing Killigan racing us to the prize, ugh, my head could've exploded! If anyone was going to put little Kimmie on her back, it'll be -_**me**_-!_

_So we get to the some charity scare-house that Pumpkin said she would be at... and she wasn't! It turned out little Miss Priss -_**lied**_- to everyone just so she could go to a par-tahy! -_**That**_- caught my attention,… actually brought a smile to my lips. Little Kimmie's got a -_**dark side**_-..._

_Then she shows up like some super-geek's wet dream, all cyberized. I got so pissed when my claws and plasma couldn't get her on the ropes, and -_**I**_- was the one put on my back. Damnit! This is happening -_**way**_- too often. At least I got a little dig in on her when the cops took us away. Course, fifteen minutes after being escorted into the paddy wagon, we were outta there._

_If that suit was tighter... she might look good, but I'd look better._

* * *

_I couldn't believe it._

_The Halloween party of the year! Josh was going to be there and I was trapped with either trick or treating with Ron or doing the Middleton Hospital Charity Fun House. So what did I do?_

_I -_**lied**_-. And you know what? Ron said it and he was -_**so right**_-. Lies suck. Every lie leads to another, and only because you want something you -_**know**_- you shouldn't. But why -_**shouldn't**_- I crush on Josh? Why did I think I needed to hide it? Okay, so maybe my dad would freak, but mom would be cool about it. I mean, Josh, he's smart, funny, cool, creative and an all round nice guy. But, why does my brain just shut down every time he gets near? Why do the stupidest things come out of my mouth when he's in hearing distance? If that's what love is, do I really want that?_

_Apparently the girl who can do anything can also get chewed out in public, in front of her whole family, her best friend since pre-K and... -_**her**_-._

_Why did -_**she**_- have to be there? The one person that I... sheesh. And I showed up looking like one of Cousin Larry's action figures._

_At least she looked good._

* * *

**Chapter 2: Dyspnoea** (1)

"Ugh! What a day!" Kim tossed her ivory and pink slingpack to the floor and flopped face first onto her khaki coloured couch.

She couldn't believe that she was this tired! No, it wasn't an exotic, crime battling mission that was kicking her butt. It wasn't a mad scientist with a battalion of goons working her over.

It was real life.

Anything's possible for a Possible was her motto. So how could normal, everyday life seem harder than saving the world? It just didn't seem to compute in her head. Okay, so she was pulling part time shifts at the local Club Banana, acting vice-captain of the college cheer squad and fast-tracking two concurrent degrees **_-while- _**saving the world. At the time, she thought, "No big," right? May be that's why it felt like life was rolling her like a three hundred pound gorilla.

She sighed and flipped over, staring at the flaking white ceiling that topped the faded red brick walls of her spartan studio apartment. She was out saving somebody's world almost every day and all she had was a 300 square foot apartment with a microfiber sofa, a battered pine table flanked by two chairs, a water damaged oak wardrobe and a futon. At least there was very little for her to mess up or clean up. The only time she spent any time here was when she was sleeping. She completed her school work on the rides to whatever missions she'd taken on; most of the people helping were amused to see the young hero doing homework instead of chatting as she did in the past.

Wade had really helped her out when he gave her the Kimstation, something he'd called the KPS with a grin; he explained that by hacking the GPS grid the little thing could access any data from anywhere, as long as it had batteries. That meant she didn't need a phone, computer or television. She had it all on a gadget the size of her palm. She still used the wrist Kimmunicator when she needed Wade in a pinch, but the slim, pink and white KPS was her workhorse.

She should be happy. Shouldn't she? Out on her own, no parental interference, no twin dweeb brothers stealing her things for weird geek experiments. She could do whatever she wanted, eat whatever she wanted, sleep whenever she felt like it. Then why did she feel so… isolated, lonely?

She'd not even bothered turning on the lights when she came in, it only would have hurt her bloodshot eyes. The only noise was the buzzing of the street lamps outside.

Friday night and too tired to do anything. Not that there was anyone to hang out with. Monique had been snapped up by Club Banana's design office and was doing an apprenticeship in New York while taking fashion industry courses. Ron eventually broke his father's heart when he told his parents he was passing up actuarial sciences at his dad's alma mater for an internationally renown culinary school on scholarship. Even Felix was already doing a post-grad at MIT after being fast-tracked through his undergrad. Why did it seem like everyone was moving on, leaving her behind? It seemed like everyone was changing, finding new things to do, but she seemed to be doing the same thing. School. Cheerleading. Saving the world. Well, that last one had changed somewhat.

She'd been taking a lot more rescue missions than actual crime fighting. Where the heck were all her villains? Professor Dementor was in prison, as were Motor Ed, Adrena Lynn, DNAmy, Frugal Lucre, Camille Leon, the Fashionistas and Gemini. The list went on. Dr. Drakken was out living the life after having reformed; he'd even received an honourary doctorate from the college he'd dropped out of for his recent work in organic preservatives. That was a spin off from his syntho gel (ick!) Monkeyfist had followed the path of the Yono as a buried statue. She had, with her natural zest and dedication, her "Kimness" as Ron used to call it, put them all away. And knowing how Global Justice operated, it seemed for good.

Kim was trying to be what she had always claimed she was: an ordinary girl. She had been trying for almost a year and a half. But being in a new city, a new campus, a new department, Kim had found it hard making new friends. Sure she was smart, funny and cute. But she spent half her waking moments on missions; she was constantly standing people up or leaving them in a lurch. The other half of her awake time was spent catching up with her readings. Then there was that thing with the university…

Argghh! Stop thinking about that, it's in the past, over and done with. Now, so not the drama. Kim rubbed both of her eyes with her palms. She was soooo exhausted!

Kim was starting to think there was really something wrong with her.

Ron and Kim. Kim and Ron. The Stoppable part of Team Possible. They had dated since their sophomore prom in High School, and all through senior year. She had thought they were meant to be together. They had grown up together since pre-K! Wasn't it her,… their destiny? So he'd done some… okay, a LOT of weird things while they dated, weird even for them, like making her order from the children's menu. Always trying to avoid talking about their relationship with the Japanese girl, Yori, who was so obviously having a ferocious crush on the blond. Always getting her into messes or semi-flubbing a mission. He'd come a long way though. He'd single handedly brought the Mad Dogs from the basement of the high school football league and led them into the finals. He'd saved the world by himself when he took on and _**-beat- **_Warmonga and Warhok. And then they graduated.

Ron had been out of sorts since tangling with those aliens and she had noticed, but after several months of not talking about it, Ron had finally called it off, citing school work as the reason. She had smiled, held his hand and nodded understandingly when he had broken down in the Sloth and told her that they should take a break, but inside she had felt… dislocated. She knew the symptoms of shock from her psychology class, but like all knowledge, it didn't make the experience any easier. She had cried for months afterwards. Her parents commiserated during Christmas. Monique did what she could, taking calls at all hours, but being an up and coming designer in the Club Banana empire in a city across the nation, she could not be there for her as much as she was needed. She might as well have been on the moon. Only focusing on her schoolwork and missions had kept Kim going. Wade had been worried at the amount of time she had been sleeping. Doctor Director had unexpectedly called her to suggest easing up on taking missions.

Throughout high school, Kim had struggled to figure out the whole dating thing. Although she could do anything, it seemed that she just could not get a proper boyfriend, let alone a date. Ron had been her longest steady. Bonnie Rockwaller, the cruel and ambitious popularity-centered girl had notched all the stars of the high school scene on her lipstick case: Hirotaka the foreign exchange student, Brick the football star and currently Señor Senior Junior the heir to the Senior fortune. Kim knew her own dating track record read like a freak show list: artsy slacker Josh, Eric the syntho-drone and last, Ron. Sadly, it was Eric that had seemed the most "normal" of the three, until he revealed himself as non-human.

Kim had been hoping to see Ron at home during the first summer after his stint in the west coast culinary school he'd been enrolled in. May be if they spent some time together, they could be -**_together- _**again. She'd had a foolproof plan. It had been all laid out. All possible results accounted for. All responses carefully planned for flawless execution.

Except he had not returned to Middleton. He said he was going to spend sometime out of the country, restoring his "groove." Just thinking about it made her growl in frustration. With the plan in shambles, she had decided to return to campus and spend her summer drowning herself in scholastic achievement.

So here she was. No nightlife to live. No friends to hang with. Not even a half decent villain to crush.

Kim's fatigued and overwrought mind started wondering what _-**she**- _was doing. Now _-**she**- _was a challenge! Whenever they had tangled, boy did she feel alive! Their bodies twisting, turning, fists and feet flying, a deadly tango where any moment might find one of them reeling from a calculated blow. That provocative smirk, those haughty green eyes above generous lips… who was Drakken's companion.

Even now the image of that media conference with the mutated man's flower tentacles around her gave Kim the **-**_**creeps**-_. What was _-**that**_-? Did that mean they were _-**together**- _together? Maybe, since Kim had heard she travelled with the cerulean scientist wherever he was lecturing, showing off his latest scientific devices. Kim wondered.

She decided to turn in. She knew she was feeling especially drained, and no good thing ever came from that. If she remained awake, her genius mind would continue to assault her psyche. Besides, there was cheer practice tomorrow and with the Vice out of commission with a ruptured Achilles, the Captain had asked Kim to anchor the routine. She slid off the couch and opened her wardrobe to change.

* * *

Beep-beep be-beep.

Kim groaned. For once she'd like to get 8 hours straight. Was that too much to ask?

Beep-beep be-beep.

Fumble fumble fumble, thump there goes the alarm clock. Crash, was that the lamp?

Beep-beep be-beep.

Finally, success.

Beep.

"Ron, this better be good," Kim groaned, not bothering to look at the bothersome device.

"Sorry to get you up, Kim." She lifted the KPS up to look at the screen. "But we got an urgent hit on the site."

"Wade?" This was strange. Wade usually didn't beep her at night, no matter what the time zone. She rubbed an eye with the heel of her hand and saw that Wade was also in his jammies. "Alright, sitch me."

"Sure Kim." Wade was looking better than ever, since she'd challenged him to lose weight. His mind would be sharper she said. After ten months, Wade agreed with her statement. "Someone saw suspicious looking characters in and around your campus. Big, beefy, white helmets and grey outfits. Your campus, so I thought you might want to know."

"Professor Dementor? But I thought he's still in prison," Kim sat up. What would Dementor want to steal from her school?

"He is, but his goons are on the move." Kim blew a stray bang from her face.

"Okay. Five minutes, and I'll take the Sloth."

"Need back-up?" Kim paused for a moment, then slapped her hand on a hidden panel beside her bed. It glowed as a soft female voice said, "Biometric scan complete. Welcome, Kim Possible." The wall slid aside revealing a single piece of glowing white cloth.

"Naw, if it's just goons, me and my battlesuit's got 'em."

* * *

"Hey, you sure about that email?"

Ten large men in grey uniforms and white helmets gathered around an eleventh, who was fiddling with a large black gun with a yellow antenna. They stood in the shadows by a large building in the middle of the campus.

"Sure I'm sure. It had his thing about the strudel factory and everything," the middle goon hissed as he put the gun on his shoulder. "Hmmm, Extremely Large Blaster Device,... setting 3 should be enough to get us in without a lot of noise…"

"No way! Three can't even open a pickle bottle. At least use 5!"

"Hey, I used 5 once and it blew up a whole house! At most four."

"Shut up!" The ELBD touting goon snarled. "We go in to the hall. We nab the shiny square thing that's sitting on pedestal. We get out. Zip it and get your head in the game!" With that, he turned the setting to four, pointed and pulled the trigger.

After a slight rumble and a brief bright light, the section of wall before them disappeared, leaving scorch marks.

"Let's go!" With that the ELBD goon ran in. The others glanced at each other.

"Who died and made him Dementor?"

They ran in after him. The men rushed down a long corridor lined with paintings and trophy cases. At the double doors, they bumped into each other as they all tried to get through at the same time.

"Just…!"

"Would you get off?"

"…was here first!"

Eventually they pushed through and stumbled into an unlit auditorium. They ran down the aisles and stopped on the elevated stage. One ran backstage and after a loud clank a single spot light flashed down on one of the hidden trap doors, which slid open as something slowly rose from the depths. The men stared, realizing there was someone perched on top of their objective.

"Ya know, I thought going straight was going to be boring," said a snide voice, as the figure stood, rich dark hair waving as elegant hands tugged at gloves. "But with all the morons trying to jack Dr. D's shit… "(2) The goons all took a step back as they recognized her. The clacking and sizzling sound of their telescoping stun staffs extending and charging filled the air. More than one swallowed weakly. She spread her arms, a predator ready to pounce and with a pronounced "whumf", green flame engulfed her clawed hands. She looked up and one of the goons made a small noise when he saw her face.

"I get a lot of practice."


	3. Chapter 3: Stormchaser

**Blood and Bondage**

**by sweetpixiesmile**

**A/N**: My first fight sequence! Please review and critique. I'm not sure if it worked out.

(1) Jai Alai – Originally a Basque game, it features a 3 walled court where two competitors catch a ball in a scoop shaped cesta. A variation is used in the old Tron movie by Disney. In the Third Season two parter, Kim's battlesuit nanites were able to form the scoop cesta and Kim was able to catch and toss Shego's plasma back for explosive effect.

(2) See Jeh - In Cantonese, literally, "tutoring sisters", girls who have the same sifu, or "martial arts master".

* * *

_Third Interlude_

_It's official. Dr. D will only -_**ever**_- be an employer. Who the fuck did he think he was dealing with, sticking me with a -_**mind control chip**_-?_

_Cooking? Cleaning? Grovelling in front of the fucking ass who can't invent something on his own? To top it off, Princess shows up and got a good look at me in the fucking -_**apron**_-!_

_I didn't kill him, just let him know who's in charge, and that he keeps the checks coming. I beat him good, like a good friend would._

_The only highlight of the day was that Pumpkin -_**also**_- got chipped. And I gotta admit, my suit looks great on everyone. Though I think I'm bigger, the suit was still pretty tight on her. And... perky._

* * *

_Being an older sister is just not very cool sometimes. But today was okay, especially since I had the tweebs under control post-sitch._

_But you'd never guess what I saw today: -_**SHEGO IN AN APRON**_-! When I saw it, it was an oh my Gawd moment. It was cataclysmic. And it was... I don't know, it made my mouth dry. So dry that I got chipped too._

_After that I was frantic, because I knew all the stuff I was doing, but couldn't stop myself; but the tweebs actually came through for me! So I treated them. Instead of ragging on them for all the aggravation pre-chip, we had a nice quiet evening. See, technology can be good sometimes._

* * *

Chapter Three: Stormchaser

As Kim pulled the Sloth onto the campus, she saw bright light flare for more than a second out every single window of the Fiske Auditorium.

"Uh-oh," she thought. She gunned the accelerator and the roundish purple car hurtled over the curb and onto the grounds. Tires squealing she jammed the brake and slid to a smoking stop just outside the building. She hopped out while scanning the building and noted the ruined wall. She could still see flashes coming from the skylights accompanied by a staccato of explosions and decided to take the high way. She tapped her shoes and with a deafening roar, flames shot out of her heels and hurled her into the night sky. As she neared the top of the building, she cut off the flames and back flipped onto the gravel covered roof. In a moment she was opening the cleaner's panel to the skylights. She raised her right wrist and blasted the intelligent contact grapnel at the skylight's concrete base and piked through the opening.

As she dropped to the stage, she stared, eyes wide. Several grey suited goons lay in a pile. A few more were among scorched ruins of the seats. As she hit the ground she flicked her hand; the hook detached and the monofiliment line retracted into her wrist with a soft whirr.

A silver device sat untouched on a pedestal in the back center of the stage illuminated by a single spotlight. Kim turned around, her senses straining for any clues as to what had happened. What the heck was going on? Suddenly, a shadow slid up behind her. Her eyes widened. Behind!

"You're a little late, Pumpkin," a smug voice breathed into her ear. Kim's eyes fluttered slightly as a shiver ran through her. Suddenly, she flipped into a forward handspring, her feet whipping over. They sizzled past dark hair as the green woman leaned to the side. She put a clawed hand on her hip as Kim came to her feet. Kim dropped into a stance, one fist balled by her waist, the other arm out, palm facing a devilish smile.

"Kenpo?" Shego smirked. "So old school…" She crouched low, clawed hands glowing green brands.

"-_**So**_- shouldn't be talking about old!"

Without warning, Shego swept in, her hands moving, the plasma trail weaving complex designs. Kim stood her ground until the last moment, then began a series of break blocks, disrupting the pattern and suddenly trapping Shego's wrist. She spun, swinging the powered woman around and away, using the pale woman's own momentum. Shego twisted as she skidded several yards, remaining on her feet.

"You've gotten slower, Shego."

"You're only able to beat my C game -_**now**_-?"

"Then bring it, 'cause your A game isn't much better!"

With that, black and white, green and blue, swept together, whirling, twisting. White chased black, green darted at blue, neither seemingly able to overpower the other. It was a lethal dance where one tiny miscalculation, one weakness in stance meant a trip to the hospital. But through the flurry of fists and kicks, two smiles mirrored each other.

A five-forty twisting handspin kick caused the green woman to flip back to center stage and bring her fists behind her. Seeing the familiar move and the increased glow behind the brunette, Kim power jumped and flipped off the stage. Two plasma balls impacted her takeoff spot as she leapt. Landing in the aisle next to the wall, Kim looked up to see the woman settle into a different stance, one hand cupped facing up and beginning to glow intensely, the other poised above it. She'd seen this stance in one other person, a ninja…

Kim's eyes widened and she threw herself onto the armrests of the auditorium seats and sprinted. Shego's left hand began dipping and flicking toward her in a blur. Tiny darts of plasma trailing green flame scorched through the seats behind her as she ran full tilt, leaving dime sized holes in the metal frames, the synthetic fabric melting instantly. She glanced at the rapidly approaching end of the row.

"No where to run, Princess," Shego called, her hand a blur of green flares.

The red head surged diagonally towards the rear of the hall, flipping through the rows on the backs of the chairs, green trailers flashing past her. Her eyes darted forward, calculating. Her feet planted on the last chair's back her powerful legs bunching. Instantly she launched into a high leap, her left hand punched out behind her. With a whoosh, her wrist grapple flew skyward, snapping into the middle of the vaulted ceiling, the contact head cracking the plaster. Roller blades emerged from her soles and flames roared out the back her heels. Kim hit the wall with the blades, rocketing up the wall to the balcony, reeling herself up as she dashed around the mezzanine towards the stage. Shego's eyes narrowed, tracing the trajectory of her momentum, never seeing Kim's piercing emerald gaze on her own, waiting for the slight shift in her stance.

Shego shifted.

With a load bang, Kim retracted her grapple, the reel whining loudly as the line pulled in at high speed, letting gravity kill her upward momentum. Green darts exploded on the plaster above her as she punched her hand toward the stage and the grapple's contact head shot into the wood between the green and black clad woman's feet. With another powerful leap, Kim reeled in, blades retracting, flames roaring out now from the sole of her heels. The grapple line kept her bead on the flame tossing girl. She was a Kim Possible missile, her right fist cocked, a gleam in her eye and smirk on her lips.

Shego flipped back as Kim's fist drove into the stage, the wood cratering at the impact point, slats splintering for three feet around her.

"Whoa, Princess, putting on some weight?" Shego quipped as she came up from her flip. Kim drew her arm out of the splintered stage, electricity spidering into the demolished floor from a white cone shape at the end of her fist. The cone flowed back to reveal her hand as the battlesuit's nanites returned to their positions, the glowing blue stripe on her arm sizzling.

"Just taking center stage," Kim's smirk had not left her face.

Shego came back in with a signature sweep and claw combo only to be pulled into a hand lock that stretched her arms out, their hands clasped together. She pushed herself tight against Kim, knowing the domination lock that held her close to Kim's torso. Plasma flared brighter. A yellowish glow began to emanate from Kim's hands and the battlesuit's blue stripes began to sizzle, raising the protection field wattage against the green flame.

Engaged as they were, neither noticed a shadowy figure creep out of the auditorium from the second balcony.

Kim held on, knowing if she let go, the claws that were held by her protected hands would find unprotected pressure points. Kim pushed and Shego strained against her, their faces close together. Kim could feel Shego's breath, a strange musky scent across her cheek. She turned to look at the straining brunette, only to see a pair of dark green eyes staring deep into her own. Kim's face flushed a bright red.

"Reeeaaaarrgggh!" With a cry, Kim flung the older woman back.

It was only then that they realized that sirens were converging outside the building. They crouched, panting, eyes on the other for a moment longer. Then they both warily straightened.

"I thought you'd gone straight," Kim made it sound like a statement.

"I thought you -_**were**_- straight," Shego shot back with a smirk. She thought Kim's face could not get any redder. Once again, the younger woman proved her wrong.

"To quote someone, 'you think you're all that?'" Kim looked away. Her heart was still pounding with the memory of Shego's breath. Shego put a hand on her hip.

"Well, I don't blame ya, Pumpkin," Shego shot back, looking at her nails. "I -_**am**_- damn -_**sexy**_-."

"Whatever!" _One for the girl in green_, Shego's smirk said to Kim. Kim crossed her arms in a huff then gestured at the fallen men. "Shego? What's going on?"

"Those guys? Oh they were blown over by a little firestorm," Shego smirked.

Moments later, they heard a loud speaker announce the presence of the local law enforcement emergency response team. Kim sighed and raised her right hand.

"Wade?" she said, speaking into her wrist Kimmunicator.

"Yeah Kim?"

"Could you let the boys in blue outside know that they can come in?"

"Consider it done."

"Please and thank you."

A minute later, uniformed police officers crashed through the doors, tazers drawn. Soon, they were leaning over Dementor's men. Some were beginning to wake up. Most would need medical attention, some for severe burns, some for broken bones. Many for both. A couple of blue uniforms appeared gathering up broken stun sticks. A third detached himself from the group and headed to where the two women were leaning against the ruined stage, chatting. He noted the two women stood together, but was struck with the sense of two gladiators ready to enter a coliseum.

"That was a neat trick back there," Shego was saying. "They're gonna hafta replace the whole stage now…"

"Only way I could think of getting past your plasma darts," Kim shrugged.

"Risky, though. Won't be able to use a charging attack like that twice."

"Those plasma darts, that was new. Almost got me for a second there!" Shego chuckled.

"No way, I saw you were way ahead of the game. But I figgered I needed something faster than the ol' green balls of fire for you to catch and jai alai (1) back at me. Took me a while to get any kind of speed to 'em."

"Shego," a familiar brown haired, blue suited man stated as he approached.

"Global Justice Agent First Class Du," she replied snidely, not taking her eyes off Kim. "We've got to stop meeting like this." He stopped by the two girls.

"Ms. Possible," he nodded at Kim. Kim nodded in return.

"Hey Will."

Will Du had filled out a little since the last time she saw him, less wiry, and bigger shoulders. Although there were no rank markings on his uniform, as per Global Justice regulations, Kim had heard that he'd been assigned as team leader after his stint with Team Possible. Apparently he had learned enough from her to get promoted. He turned back to Shego.

"Looks like you really worked the place over tonight," he remarked to the brunette. "The University's not going to like it."

"Crowd wasn't too tough, but more than I'd expected." Shego shrugged, her eyes narrowing as she turned, her emerald gaze piercing. "The bastards can't complain, they'll get their lecture and our insurance will cover this anyhow."

"Well, you know the drill, I'm going to have to get your statement." His eyes flicked to Kim.

Kim held up her hands, "It was over before I got here!" He nodded and gestured Shego to the side. Shego started moving, then paused and looked back at Kim.

"Hey Pumpkin, wait for me, I wanna talk to ya." Kim's mouth opened a bit as her mind raced. Me? And Shego? But a strange little part of her was mentally pumping a fist.

"Ah… sure." Kim settled back to wait. She watched the green toned woman speaking to Will. Kim remembered that he was a bit of a Boy Scout, a stickler for rules and regulations, so proud of his Global Justice uniform. He still seemed a bit stiff, standing near the sexy ex-thief. Kim took a closer look at Shego, now that she was focussed on Will. Still the same old Shego, her toned body wrapped tightly in her signature green and black catsuit, clinging and hugging in all the right places.

It had been over two years since she had seen the ex-heroine turned ex-villain, since the time the Lowardian aliens had made their failed attempt to take over the earth for the embarrassment Kim had caused Warmonga in her quest for the "Great Blue." Shego and Ron had rushed to their rescue after both Drakken and Kim had been captured, but instead of carrying Drakken, Shego had found and taken Kim. Shego glanced up and saw the red-headed girl watching her and smirked a bit.

While Will paused in his questioning to take notes, Shego began thinking about the difference between her time putting down those rabid goons of Dementor and her brief tangle with the teenaged hero. Of course she had not pulled out all the stops in both encounters, but unlike the grey suited meat monsters, fighting Kim had demanded her full attention and required her to use some of her new skills she had developed just to defeat her. Oddly, she had continued to develop what she considered anti-Kim techniques even after she had stepped out of the villain world. Shego was puzzled at why she would have worked so hard on new techniques when the reason for seeing Kim had disappeared along with her villain career. And that brief clash with Kim was,… thrilling, somehow. After a moment, Shego smiled. Maybe the extended stay here wasn't going to be as boring as she thought. Now if she could just work it right…

Kim had not been looking for a fight with the reformed thief, yet when the super powered woman startled her, they had fallen right back into the familiar hero and villain mode. And fighting her was…. _exhilarating_. Tangling with a high level martial artist whose bag of tricks seemed to change at each encounter was such a rush! Those plasma darts were definitely a surprise. Kim wondered what else the girl with the glow was going to toss her way tonight.

"Shego!" A deep rasping voice hollered from the back of the ruined seating. Kim turned and saw a familiar scarred blue face in blue pajamas, complete with hat. Oh yeah, it -_**is**_- late at night, Kim reflected, glancing at her wrist Kimmunicator. Gah! Five in the morning? She should go back to bed…

Drakken hurried down to where the catsuited woman stood. Will glanced at his notes, looked up at the pulverized trail on the balcony. He simply nodded to her, then joined to his colleagues who had finished gathering and cataloguing the stun sticks. The mad scientist… ex-mad scientist, Kim corrected herself, seemed to have even less hair than last she saw him.

"Shego, are you alright?" he demanded, walking up to the green woman.

"I will be after you stop hollering in my fuckin' ear!" Shego shook her head.

"Well, looks like a fine mess you've made here," the blue man complained. "They'll have to move us to a smaller hall for tomorrow's demonstration…"

"A-buh-buh-buh!" Shego interrupted, waving a finger under Drakken's scarred visage. "What did I tell you about tour details?" Drakken's shoulders stooped a bit.

"Not to… bore you… with details?"

"That's right. Glad you remember the contract." Shego sauntered over to Kim and slipped her arm around her shoulders, steering the redhead towards the exit. "Kimmie and I need to have a bit of girl talk. Don't wait up!" Kim let the green woman guide her out the double doors before stepping away from the arm.

"So, what did you want, Shego? I've only got about ninety minutes before I have to get up and head to cheerleading practice."

"Still skirt flipping for the boys, Pumpkin?" Shego teased, her patent smirk on her face.

"Not everyone has nothing to do but file nails you know." Kim rolled her eyes. "Look, Shego, you asked me for a bit of my time, and I'm here. You want to tease and bitch, I have a better way of spending the next ninety minutes." Kim's glare could burn through metal, Shego thought, smiling to herself. She took a moment to focus.

"How's the hero work coming?" Kim blinked at the sudden change in tone and topic.

"Well, not so much save the world these days, mostly rescues and stuff..." Kim shrugged. "Nothing big."

"'Cause I was thinking I remember you being just a teensy bit faster, a weensy bit quicker. Not much competition out there?"

"Not really. I mean you were the only one who could keep up with me - "

"And put you on your back," Shego interjected with a smirk. "Okay, look. I'll lay it out there for you to think about, alright? All I've been fighting are goons, like tonight. From the sounds of it, you haven't even been doing that. It'd be a shame if all our skills went to waste..." One of Kim's eyebrows went up after a moment.

"You... want to fight me?" she asked in disbelief.

"Spar, Kimmie, the word is spar." Shego looked away for a second. "Every hero needs a nemisis..."

"You sound like a M. Night Shyamalan movie." Shego's emerald gaze turned back to Kim.

"Drakken's gonna be at your campus for about a month, and I got nothing better to do than baby sit his shit. I've got nothing to do in this hicksberg, but our fight tonight..." _was ecstasy_… she finished in her head. Shego stopped, a scowl forming on her face. Now she wasn't sure how to put where she was going in words without it sounding sappy.

"It was great." Kim finished for her. She glanced at the former thief, considering. "I won't lie to you; your martial arts skills are amazing, but we're not exactly... friends, or even see jeh(1)."

"Just look at it as some friendly competition, Pumpkin. Think about it. We can set some ground rules and everything." After a brief pause, Shego said, "besides, I won't bite... much," ending with a smirk.

"And your blue boyfriend won't be jealous?" If Shego had been expecting any arguments, that was not one of them. Her eyes widened as laughter escaped from her tightly pressed lips.

"Drakken? My, my... boyfri..." she wheezed out, beginning to laugh uproariously. Kim's face pinked in embarrassment. Shego bent over, holding her stomach with one arm. "Oh... oh... omigawd!" It took Shego a full 2 minutes to bring herself under control.

"Are you done?" Kim raised an eyebrow as Shego forcefully clamped down on a few more guffaws.

"Whatever gave you -_**that**_- idea?" She wiped away a tear as she straightened.

"Well," Kim clasped her hands behind her. "That news conference after you helped us put down Warmonga and Warhok..."

"What, -_**that**_-?" Shego's eyes were wide. "You actually believed that? Look, a long time ago, I vowed to myself that Doctor D would never, -_**never**_- be boyfriend material. He did it because I would've broken the arm of a Nobel laureate who wouldn't stop touching my ass. So he saved the jerkoff's arm, saved his nomination and saved me the trouble of dealing with wandering hands." Shego shook her head.

"Well," Kim fidgeted a bit. "Okay." _I always thought you could do better_, was what she really wanted to say. She looked away, a faint blush on her cheeks. Shego gazed at her for a moment.

"Aaanyhoo, I should be the one asking if your buffoon might object," Shego made a snide remark.

"His name is Ron!" Kim ground out.

"What? I mean I do scare the piss out of him, right?"

"-_**So**_- not helping your case!"

"Okay, okay! Fine! Won't your -**_boyfriend- _**have a problem with you training with your old nemesis?" Shego raised her hands in a placating gesture. Kim turned her head away.

"He's not my boyfriend anymore," she muttered in a low tone. Shego cocked her head.

"What? I didn't catch that Pumpk-"

"He's not my boyfriend anymore!" Kim shouted, interrupting and surprising the ex-thief. There was an awkward pause. In that space, a dozen paramedics and six stretchers pushed their way past.

"Excuse us, ladies!" called the one in the lead. Shego watched Kim as the girl stepped back, her eyes on the floor. The sound of squeaky wheels and medical chatter filled the corridor, then faded as they rushed away. Kim was immediately embarrassed and contrite; she wondered how this green hued mercenary could get under her skin so easily.

"I…., I didn't…" Shego started and stopped after the men had passed. _Oh shit, I am really screwing this up_!

"No-, no, I'm sorry Shego. You wouldn't know." Kim turned away watching the stretchers leave. "Sorry I got all awkweird on you."

"Well, look Princess, here's the number I can be reached at. It's a personal number." Shego said. She lifted some debris from the ground and quickly etched a number into the shard of plaster with a claw and some plasma. "Call me soon before I make other plans." Shego took Kim's hand and pressed the plaster into her palm.

"Alright, Shego, I'll think about it.

Five minutes later, Kim left the Fiske Auditorium, still holding the number in her hand.

* * *

Several hundred yards away, a dark figure put down an elaborate binocular system observing a small figure climbing into a purple car that quickly drove off. After a moment stashing the expensive looking lenses into a pack, the nearly invisible person lifted a communication device.

"Agent Green reporting. Targets acquired."


	4. Chapter 4: No Simple Language

**A/N:** I just wanted to thank my betas, whom I should have mentioned before now:

Nikkou, my good friend and editor-in-chief of StageStorm, for all the previous chapters and beyond. I would have never started if not for you!

catrlgirl for giving me valuable advice regarding descriptions and dialogue. I might not have been able to implement them all, since my skills aren't quite up to the task, but I tried!

Anyways, this chapter was grueling to write due to weird things happening in RL, but it's finally ready! I've also noticed that the conversion from word to whatever ff.n is using is the same as OCR scanning: only 98 accurate.

Lastly I've been neglecting the pre-requisite disclaimer:

Kim Possible and all Kim Possible Characters are the property of Disney. This fanfic generates nothing but joy for the readers (I hope!)

Please read and leave a review if you will.

* * *

_Interlude_

_My life is now officially **-**_**weird**_**-**__._

_Sure there was egg nog. Sure there were presents. Sure there was a Christmas bonus underneath the tree. There was even fucking Snowman Hank and a truce. But sharing eggnog with that underage cheerleader and her family? That has –_**got**_- to be the weirdest thing I've –_**ever**_- done._

_After a while it got all psychedelic. All we had was spiked eggnog from the extreme sports camera crew. Maybe there were some weird chemicals in that pod._

_And boy was she a lightweight. Half a mug of warm eggnog and she was giggling like... well,... like a cheerleader. She got all flushed. Even her hands were pink. I bet she gets red all over... After a while, I was the only one up and I looked at her, lying in the firelight, her hair pooled around her like a halo. And I thought, was I ever like that? I used to be a hero once. But family can fuck you up as much as they can help you. If my freak family... fucking devil and that self-aggrandizing schmuck Hego... were like hers, would I have stayed in the Tower?_

_I had the plasma running hot and my claw was raised, poised, ready to make my future as the one who killed Kim Possible._

_What the _**-fuck- **_was I thinking?_

_Looking at them like that... on Christmas,... I pressed the big button on her communicator and after hearing the nerdlinger responding "Merry Christmas! Kim? Hello?" I took Drakken back to the closest timeshare lair._

* * *

_We just had about the _**-greatest- **_Christmas ever!_

_Even though we were on the North Pole, inside an escape capsule with a bonfire. We were all there: Nana, Mom, Dad, the Tweebs, Ron, and even Drakken and... her. We'd rocket-boarded around the pole, chasing and fighting. It was so intense..._

_You know the weirdest thing today was I just couldn't give Ron the smacker that I knew he'd wanted ever since he hit puberty... not in front of her. But once, we were fooling around, singing and dancing, and she and I ended up under the mistletoe… I blushed really red, and covered up by taking a deep swig of egg nog._

_But after a while, it all kinda got blurred, and somehow, we all ended up at home, and Drakken and Shego,... well, I guess they ended up at one of their lairs._

* * *

Chapter Four – No Simple Language

It was on her mind again, breaking her concentration, intruding into her conscious thoughts.

The squad captain thought it might be that time of month. Big Mike, her front spotter for the finale of the routine had to wave her off her reload twice that would have seen an aerial Wolf Jump to an aerial Double Full that would have topped off a 3 tier pyramid. Kim hit the reload on the third try but nearly flattened the two girls on the second tier when she miscalculated the height and her own momentum. Instead of sticking the landing atop the girls' shoulders, she whipped past and landed in a perfect split position in front. Perfect, except it was not part of the routine.

"Kim, are you alright?" The blond captain stopped her as the rest of the squad hit the showers. His hazel eyes were concerned. He had heard all the rumours about this teenaged hero, and although he had been surprised that the establishment had allowed a freshman onto the main campus squad, everything he had seen in the redhead had dispelled those misgivings. She was loyal, dedicated and driven to excellence. She had an extreme workaholic ethic, but was kind and compassionate. He had heard she was flighty and although she did run out on them on occasion, as she did during one game the past spring, they later heard of the thousands of lives she had helped save in China. Most of the squad was proud to call Kim a squadmate.

"Yeah, just a bit tired. Sorry about the screw-ups," Kim sighed. "Had a bit of a late night."

"Well, take care of yourself," the captain nodded. "You're our flyer because you're light, strong, agile and a redhead. But that's not going to help if you put yourself into traction."

"I'll be more careful, Stan, thanks."

"Was it something that happened at the Fiske?" Stan asked after a glance at her. He had passed by the yellow police tape and seen the smoking ruins of the auditorium on his way to practice. Several intervarsity members had stopped to converse about it.

"Yeah, but it was no big," Kim said with a shrug. It wasn't the break-in that was big. Stan smiled and slapped her on the shoulder.

"Look, take today off then. We can handle the routines at the game. I don't want our principal flyer zoning out with all the local media and half the campus in attendance."

Kim opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it.

"Thanks Stan. And really, I'm sorry."

"As you say, no big," Stan chuckled as he walked away and with a wave, he disappeared into the men's change room.

Kim turned as Big Mike came up from behind. Since their time in detention together, Kim had helped tutor him after his father threatened to send him to military school for too many F's on his report card. Strangely, the hulking 350 pound bruiser was a pacifist; it was his stuffy principles that landed him in detention more often than not. He also had amazing muscle control and an awfully light touch, which was why he was studying fine arts, focussing on marble sculptures. And he was the best single base lifter she'd ever known.

"Cheerleader," he rumbled his lips curled in a very slight smile.

"Hey, Big Mike," Kim smiled; it had been their inside joke since detention all those years ago. "How's your sculpture for the exhibit?"

"Just a bit of polishing to do, no sweat." He looked across his massive frame at her. "You ok?"

"Yeah, thanks for asking," Kim shrugged back. "And don't worry about Amelia, she was really sorry to miss the last one."

"Thanks. Nobody messes with us, right Kim?"

"Right. See ya later!" Kim slipped into the girls change room and hit the showers. She breathed a deep sigh, trying to keep her mind from wandering back to the thing that had been worrying at her all morning. _Focus, Possible_! she ordered herself.

Shampoo.

Soap.

Rinse.

Moisturize.

Blow dry hair.

Comb.

Foundation.

Make-up, light and natural.

Straighten hair.

Check nails.

Clothing, a lavender hoodie zipper top over a midriff baring white tube halter and plum yoga pants, with matching purple hightops.

Paying attention to such mundane details didn't seem to help the growing sparks of curiousity. And with the change room quickly emptying out, there wasn't much conversation to take the edge off as her brain shifted into overdrive.

Sparring with Shego. What would that be like? Would it feel as great as it did the previous night? Would it feel different? Would they use a local ring or a dojo? Would it be private of public? And the ground rules, what might they be? Given what Kim knew of Shego, she'd probably add a little something to the competition. "_Just to make it more interesting, Princess,_" she could imagine her saying. As she put away her pom-poms in her sling bag, her eyes fell on the piece of plaster, the item that had been haunting her mind all morning.

_Should I call? Shouldn't I? _**-Arrgggh-**_!_ Kim shook her head vigorously as if she could derail her runaway thoughts. Instead of pulling out the number, she picked up a scrunchie and methodically pulled her hair into a high ponytail.

_Okay, -_**get a grip girl**_-! Let's take a deep breath, and analyze this_. One deep breath later and a cleansing exhale, Kim finally took her brain off autopilot and kicked it into gear as she packed up and headed out of the stadium, into the bright sunshine. She could use the walk home to clear her head.

* * *

Shego and Drakken had been crime free for over two years. Given their past, this was a new record for "non-criminal activity" for them. So the possibility of them setting a trap for her existed, but barely. Drakken was really enjoying the fame he had always coveted, and would not likely risk that for a little revenge. And Shego, no matter how much she claimed to be "evil" had never, to her knowledge, killed anyone. Beaten unconscious, sure. Irrevocably scarred, yeah. Maimed, rare, but it happened. But not the crossing the river to the other side of murder. And so while a little revenge for fun wasn't out of the question, she just felt that it was not a worry. _Shego's not like that anyway_, Kim thought to herself as she stopped at a light and waited to cross.

What did she have to lose? Other than a potential trip to the hospital, which had happened several times in the past. Though Kim had suffered various contusions, sprains and minor burns, Shego had never been able to seriously harm her. It might take up some of her time, but what didn't? Her summer finals had been last week, and now she was just finishing up some remaining papers from her six summer courses, most of which were already in final draft. By the end of the month, she would have almost nothing to do but missions and cheerleading. Other than the two weeks approaching, helping her dad with the Junior Rocket Booster summer camp, there was nothing else on her plate. Two months of just waiting for missions and cheer squad competitions… alone. The sparring would at least give her something to do. At the fifth intersection, Kim turned left.

Would the sparring be worth it? If last night was what it was going to be like, minus the plasma, then the answer would be a definite –_**yes**_-. So what was it that was making her feel all tweaked? Kim already knew the answer.

That old feeling. It was still there. Kim still had the old Shego fan club picture stashed away in a box in her closet back in Middleton. It came along with the fan club membership purchased with money she had saved from 2 months of allowance. Her very first "personal" purchase; her father and mother had approved it without reading the contract as a sign of their trust. A fifteen year-old girl in a black mask and a skin tight catsuit with a bright smile. Signed in black felt a message read "Be a hero in your own way! XOXO Shego, Team Go!" She thought that she had buried it deep, made it go away forever, after that betrayal, that Judas moment. She had been so disappointed, so hurt over Shego's sudden defection to the other side of the law. But she couldn't bring herself to burn the picture as many of her fellow fans had. Kim had even kept all her membership items from the tumultuous and forcible disbanding of the Team Go Shego fan club.

Years later Kim realized that her fangirl crush was simply that. She had built up a wicker idol of the green-hued girl that had nothing to do with being human, and that had combusted like a Harvest effigy at the first spark of trouble. But that shattered image had begun its own rehabilitation when Kim's hero hobby and Shego's villain career had crossed. Little by little, shade and colour, hue and nuance, the image had been reconstructed, no longer based on a grade school swoon. It was brought into sharper, clearer focus with each impact, each taunt, each block, each clash. And along with it came something new, something deep and terrible in its intensity. The feeling Kim had when fighting with Shego was like that of a drowning man resurfacing to connect once again with the outside world. Kim had fought the ex-hero to prove that evil was not the answer, could never be the answer, but had been struck by the realization that the old feeling had never really gone away. It had become… pervasive and mature. So much so that it scared her and was now the source of her indecision.

Was this a path she wanted to explore? Or would this be her Pandora's box, letting nothing but evil out, with no good and very little hope? She paused at the front double doors of a faded three story redstone, her keys jingling a she let herself in.

Long ago, the girl who could do anything had realized one thing. A hero could never be a hero if they were completely alone. Only those villains who had spent their time isolated from human contact were truly mad. And the same went for herself. Team Possible was named such for a single reason; without the team, Kim Possible would simply have been… impossible. Yet being away from family and friends, Kim had realized that she had a lot of growing up to do. Much of her previous ideology was based on her teenaged belief in her own indestructibility. But that little… run-in, with the Dean the past year had taught her the value of knowledge, awareness, objective assessment and practical application. So although she still believed in humanity, she could trust people to be people. She did not believe in killing, but she did believe in measured response. She did not believe that a justifiable end justified all means, but that any worthwhile end needed a foundation based on justified means. So she believed that this decision was her responsibility, hers and hers alone, like the fan club membership. But she didn't have to be alone.

She trusted her friends. She trusted her family even more so. She trusted her instincts. And her instincts were that everyone deserves a second chance. Well, with a little grain of salt, perhaps.

She ran up the stairs, slid her keys into the last door down the corridor. Before she turned the key, she felt a soft puff of air from the security system Wade had secretly installed for her. The puff signaled that she'd been scanned and was free to turn the key without a 50,000 volt charge covering a half meter around the door's frame. Her keys clattered as she pushed in and shut the door.

Anything was possible for a Possible. And the girl who could do anything and was not a girl who had to be alone. With that she reached for the phone.

* * *

Doctor Anne Possible sighed as she finished reviewing the charts of her most recent project. Her hand flew over a small blue tinted laptop, a large GCI watermark on her screen, the back of her hand glowing softly every so often as the security scanner under her right palm would send an encrypted wireless pulse to the AOMS chip embedded in the back of her hand. It didn't even bother her now as she worked. The tall, statuesque and internationally renown neural surgeon sat before the laptop in an ivory blouse, black belted knee length skirt of soft silk. She had on her office slippers, her Operating Room sneakers sitting with her two inch pumps by the door and the lab coat that hung on a hanger.

It had been two years since she'd taken the opportunity to work with the famous scientifically heavy GC International to do a bit of work on a longitudinal study on the physiological changes brought about by psychological stress factors on close combat conditioned soldiers returning to civilian duties. The offer came on the heels of delivering a report on a pet project of hers at a spring JAMA convention in Hawaii on physiological neural maps of highly trained people. Kim had willingly agreed to be her subject in a series of deep scan MRI comparisons, and had convinced Tara and Monique to be part of the baseline.

The AOMS chip was something they had insisted on, accompanying the levels of national and international security that they dealt with, complete with NSA, FBI, Interpol and Global Justice security clearance probes. Even James and Wade had been impressed when a GCI security courier had arrived with an armed escort, delivering all the particulars along with their laptop and offer. They had explained the whole procedure for being "secured" as they called it. James was familiar with being RFIDs, but GCI's AOMS chipping system required a surgeon.

"What is this exactly?" She remembered James asking the representative.

"It allows us to be sure that whoever logs into our network remotely is who we think they are. Each laptop is geared with the latest bioware scanners, and if someone without an AOMS tries to use it, the laptop immediately undergoes a level 5 purge." James' eyebrows went up at that.

"What, you don't mean,..." The representative had nodded.

"Yes sir. Insulated, isolated EMP pulse. There'll be nothing left inside that puppy when that happens."

James whistled, then turned to his wife.

"You better keep that 'puppy' at the office, Anne. No telling what'll happen if the boys get at it." Then he had leaned in close, his darling face slightly concerned. "Are you really sure you want to go through with this dear?" he asked in a low voice. She had felt all warm and tingly, even after all these years at his open-minded no-strings-attached heart.

"I've reviewed the procedure," was her low reply. "It's mostly a day thing, not even worth the trouble for footing the bill for at the private clinic like they are. Doctor Andrews is going to oversee it anyway, and I trust his ethics and his eye." Wade had chimed in at that point over a Kimmunicator that Kim had left for them.

"Don't worry Doctor Possible, I've looked at the specs, and it really does what they say it does. It'll also allow them to track people if they're kidnapped and everything. I think Vivian Porter has one, and you know Doctor Director wouldn't allow it if it were even remotely suspicious."

"Yes, well," James' eyebrows had contracted at the names. "She better take care of that woman, after how Global Justice swept her away from our robotics lab like that. Doctor Wu spat nails for weeks..." he muttered. Then he looked at Ann. "Well, dear, if this is what you want, then I'm behind you one hundred percent."

"Just one more thing," she had asked the representative. "What does AOMS stand for?"

"Angel on My Shoulder," was the response.

She smiled at the memory.

A personalized tune rang out and she paused to pick her handheld PC from her waist holster. She didn't need to glance at Kim's photo that appeared on the screen to know who was calling.

"Hey Kimmie, what's up?" she asked, holding the small device with her shoulder as she continued to type.

"Hey Mom, are... are you busy?" Instantly, Anne's maternal instinct noted the slight pause.

"Just some report work on that GCI thing, but nothing that can't wait." She stopped typing and shut her laptop. Instantly, her AOMS chip stopped glowing. "So how'd you finals go? Are you done yet?"

"Oh, yeah, it was no big."

"We saw you on the news this morning."

"Really? Is dad still watching that feed from the local university station here?" Anne could hear the amusement in her daughter's voice.

"Yes, and he complained all the way through about their use of the cellular video for their reporting." Anne chuckled softly. Then she went for the heart of the matter. "Is there something you'd like to talk about? I know you wouldn't just call unless something's up." There was another pause.

"Yeah mom. You remember Shego?" Anne sat back, knowing this was one of _those_ calls.

"Sure. Works for Drew, plasma wielding villainess. You put her away a few times, she got away from you a few times. Had a green complexion. That Shego_?" The only person whose picture you've kept without telling your father and I_, she added in her mind. Of course she knew. What kind of mother would she be if she didn't?

"Yeah Mom. Turns out last night's thing was because Dementor was trying to steal something of Drak-, uh, I mean Doctor Lipsky's. It was over even before I got there. Anyway," Kim paused. "The reason why I'm calling is that Shego invited me to spar with her. So I'm thinking I might stay at my place for a little longer before I come home for the summer." Anne picked up the careful way that Kim said those words. Inwardly, Anne sighed, _oh, Kimmie_.

"Are you sure? Honey, your father's going to be all disappointed. It'll be the first time without either you or Ronald to help out with the Junior Rocket Boosters. He was so looking forward to it after the great way you guys were last year."

"At least we weren't participants last year," Kim muttered through the phone. "Tell him sorry for me?"

"Sure, Kim. Just be careful. Don't play too rough."

"Gotcha, Mom. I love you, talk to you later!"

Anne disconnected the call and put down her handheld, then turned in her seat to look out the window. She knew how devastated Kim had been when things with Ron hadn't seemed to work out. Those months had been grueling for her daughter. It was like learning to live with the death of a loved one. But it had also brought them closer, had given Anne a new role; not just as a career supermom, or physician, but as a pal, a friend. She had finally been able to be a shoulder for her strong willed daughter to cry on. _Be careful, Kimmie_, she sighed again, then turned back to her desk and opened her laptop. The GCI logo swirled in greeting.

"Scanning for AOMS. Please log in," asked a smooth female voice. The soft pulsing on the back of her hand resumed.

"Doctor Anne Possible," Anne responded. After a moment, the screen with her work flashed up again.

"Welcome back, Doctor Possible. The analysis you've requested from our statistics team is complete. Do you wish to review their report?"

"Yes. New window please." Anne made a note on her handheld to remind herself to tell James about Kim's delayed return and went back to work. After a moment, she sat back, tapping her pursed lips with a well manicured finger, then she quickly picked up the device and added another entry. She gazed at it before giving it a last button press and placed it down. The item read "Think of how to explain to James Kim may be a lesbian."

* * *

"So what did you think of the speech?" asked Drew Lipsky, formerly known as Doctor Drakken, pulled at the lapels to his black shawl collared tuxedo jacket. His collars were always tight these days, the silly yellow petals and the tiny pink flowered vine growing out of his neck. The vine drew a cream coloured scarf around his shoulders as he flicked some lint off his left shoulder in front of the bathroom mirror.

Shego sat in the hotel bedroom in an armchair across from the bathroom door. She wore a custom cheongsam, bare backed with the front hugged up just above her breasts and a side slit that went daringly high on the left. Her long lustrous hair was flipped to one side, flowing softly over jacket that only had short sleeves, and a band of silk that covered her clavicles and trapezii that anchored to a mandarin collar, which left a swathe of smooth light green skin exposed above her cleavage. The luminous emerald dragon embroidery shimmered as she meticulously filed the claws on her right hand. Nail files could cause rather painful burns due to carelessness. But burns weren't on her mind. It was a certain perky little red-head.

Shego liked to think of herself as a free spirit who was very much in touch with her emotions, although it was mostly anger, lust and greed that she connected with. But as a highly trained fighter, she also trusted her instincts and decisions. So it was strange for her to be second guessing herself.

**-Why- **_did I invite Kimmie like that_, she wondered. It was like a spur of the moment lapse in thinking. The fight with the goons was fun, but predictable. They always made the same old mistakes, surprised by the same old feints and stunts. It was like tossing around two hundred and fifty pound children. Steroid damaged muscle men.

But then Kim showed up; Shego thought she could surprise her so that she could thoroughly enjoy any taunting opportunities, but Kim had nearly wiped her smirk off her face with a sizzling flip-kick that set her blood swirling in expectation… of what? It was the feeling of adrenaline running in her veins, the shivering anticipation of a real challenge. And then she had spoken to the teen hero, as if they were… okay, not friends, but something like that. Shego had suddenly realized, as Will had led her away from the red-headed adventurer, that she had missed their little fights. She even missed the feeling of talking with someone who seemed to…. understand her?

_-_**Fuck**_-_. _What's wrong with me?_ She used to be the most wanted woman in the world. She had commanded top dollar for her services; hard or soft, she could do it all. She'd even been training some of Drew's goons before Warmonga and Warhok had appeared and flipped Shego's villain career on its head. Saving the world had garnered a series of pardons and restitution discussions; Drew had even offered and eventually paid some of the amounts when he'd heard that he was being honoured for his role in the fight against the Lorwardians.

Long ago, she'd vowed to never, **-_ever_- **let anyone get close to her again. Being soft, meant being a chump, a sap, a sucker. It made you sentimental and weak. It made you vulnerable. And that was one thing Shego would NOT allow. She was still a premiere fighter and continued to enjoy her nonchalant days. But she lacked someone to push her, to really keep her on top of her game. And that was what Princess was going to do for her.

"Shego!" the blue scientist hollered at her. She looked up to see the scar faced man standing before her, but just outside clawing distance.

"Hmm? What was that? I was too busy ignoring you."

"At least you could honour your contract and pretend to listen to me when I speak," Drakken crossed his arms in a huff.

"Um, yeah, I was. I nodded and uh-huhed in the right spots," Shego deadpanned, her eyes taking on a dangerous glint.

"Yes, but you didn't have to use that tone when you did," he whined. A black eyebrow went up as the emerald eyes stared back at him. "Alright, Shego, fine. Come along, we've got a party to attend. And we don't want to be late." Shego stood up, picking up a black and green wristlet wallet. As Drew turned for the door, the back of his right hand began to emit a soft glow.

"Hey Doctor D," Shego called, "your hand is doing its weird glow thing again." Drew held up his hand.

"Mmmmrmh! They always finish their reports at the most inopportune times!" He rubbed the glowing back of his right had with his left thumb three times and the glow stopped. "There! Let's get going; someone told me they'll have pigs in a blanket, and I want some!"

* * *

"And I said 'Prepare to taste defeat... and boy is it salty!'" The blue scientist and the men and women around him in formal wear laughed. The laughter reached up to the vaulted twenty foot ceiling of the reception hall, draped with golden shears and overhung with crystal chandeliers. A waiter with a tray of croissant wrapped cocktail wieners walked by and amazingly didn't flinch when the pink flowered vine reached out and scooped up 3 as he passed. "Really, Dean Connor, these pigs in a blanket are so tasty!"

"I'm glad you like them, Doctor Lipsky," The Dean was a tall thin man with brown hair and dark beady eyes. A small trimmed moustache hung above a droopy mouth, similar in shape to the plucked eyebrows.

"Please, call me Drew," the ex-villain said around his stuffed mouth. He glanced around for a moment. "Shego!" he bellowed, startling a nearby man into dropping a champagne flute. "Where could she be, I need some refreshment!"

"Ah, let me call one for you, Drew," Dean Connor gave a wry smile.

* * *

Outside the lavishly decorated reception room was a small elevated glass enclosed rotunda. Sweeping stone staircases dropped away from either side of open double doors that led back inside to the reception hall. The middle of the rotunda had railing surrounding a large opening through which a series of large marble balls spun as water was pushed up under each, spilling over sculpted pedestals to a pool below.

Shego leaned against the stone railing opposite of the doors and looked up at the stars. How did she get here? All her training. Those long hard hours at the monastery. The bruises and fractures from martial arts competitions. That fucking meteorite. Her fucking brothers…. Well, just the two; she couldn't blame the twins as annoying as they were. The fucking devil. Her string of heists and thefts in Europe, Asia, Africa. The top ten wanted lists in eleven countries. And now she was legit. She was "clean." And she felt… bored. Like there was something missing. She still had money, plenty of it. She had fame; dozens of high-level security firms continued to clamor for her testing services. But sometimes, in the middle of the crowd, or the silence of the early morning, something felt… off. As if she'd hit a bull's-eye but on someone else's target. She gazed up at the constellation of Aquila, divine bird of the Greek gods, bearer of Zeus's mighty thunder. Had the thunder been taken from her some how? She gave a sigh, unaware at its wistful quality.

"Penny for your thoughts?" purred a soft voice.

Shego drew in a surprised breath, then slowly turned around. Behind her stood a round faced girl, with her dramatic red hair pulled up into a high ponytail, her curled bangs framing her amused sea green eyes. Pumpkin wore a flowing empire waist black dress. Under an intricate brocade top, silver chased pleats flowed from between her breasts to the toe covering hem. Shego stared for a moment, then cast her own emerald gaze like a weapon as she leaned back on the railing on her elbows.

"And I thought only VIPs were invited," Shego evaded. "Freshmen aren't VIPs."

"And most freshmen aren't personal friends of the guests of honour," the hero replied as she sidled over to lean over the rail next to the ex-thief.

"Personal friends?" Shego snorted in rebuttal. "That floats like the Titanic."

"We've known each other for almost seven years; what else would you call it?" the redhead quipped back.

Shego made no reply, but her face was pensive. Princess glanced at her.

"I love your dress, you look really great in it," that voice purred again.

"Thanks. Uh, you too." Shego's thoughts were awhirl. _What's Pumpkin doing here? Why is she here instead of calling like I asked? Is she going to blow me off?_ Then she blinked. _What the –_**fuck**_- is wrong with me?_

"This, I had it on the hanger. Never been worn. I didn't think I'd ever get any use out of it; thought this might be the chance" the hero shrugged.

_Hugs like a little black dress_, Shego thought until her mind screamed, _Shut the fuck up!_ Pumpkin looked closer at Shego's dress, tracing the strange fiery balls chased with shimmering Chinese dragons patterned the black silk. "Hmm. Dragon lady," the hero smirked.

Shego was glad the only light in the rotunda was moonlight. Her flush, she hoped, would escape notice.

"It was my mother's," she muttered in reply before her brain caught up to her mouth. _NO_, it screamed, throttling her runaway tongue.

"It's so classy." The redhead turned and stared up at the stars, like Shego had been doing. The older woman rallied her thoughts, then turned to joined in a perusal of the constellations.

"No nice little parties for your little black number?" Shego used a tease to try to get back to normalcy, and get in control of the situation. The younger woman's flush was clear, even under the opalescent moonlight. She looked away for a moment, then turned back and looked Shego right in the eye.

"I was going to use it to prove to Ron we belonged together."

Shego blinked at the frank and very personal admission. _Okay, we are now entering the Twilight Zone…_

"What happened?" Again with that rebellious mouth. _I should just sock myself in the kisser when I have the chance!_

"He ran off. I think he knew what I was planning. It broke my heart, but it also opened my eyes," the admission was accented with a sigh, the sea green eyes stared down at the marble floor below. "You can't force things just because you think it's the way it's supposed to be." Pumpkin's face had a melancholy expression that Shego didn't, couldn't understand that she was reacting to. Shego leaned towards the redhead.

"Hey Princess."

"Yeah?" The girl looked up. Shego noted the eyes were more green blue with gold flecks.

"What say we blow this popsicle and blow off some steam?" Kim's face became still. Her eyes delved into Shego's, her lips parted slightly as she drew breath to answer.

* * *

Beneath neatly coiffed brown hair, a single dark eye glares out of a deep socket into the midnight blue of a large oval window. Steepled hands with rough calluses, elbows resting on the swivel chair's leather armrests. A barrel chest sporting a tight fitting jacket, the purple arms a sickly dark stain in the dim light, the torso a bruised bluish grey. Black combat boots finish off similarly sickly purple baggy pants. A black metal desk crouches behind him. To his right, a tall lanky black man in a deep blue tank top, black slacks and combat boots stands, arms crossed. Black piercing eyes stare out dispassionately, like a predator considering his prey. Tattoos of stylized black vines with wicked looking blood-touched thorns entwine both his arms, meeting together on his back beneath a horned skull. A long braid of dreadlocks hang down his back. A few meters to the left of the desk lounges a long legged Asian beauty on a charcoal leather couch. A series of tight buns crown her scalp. A white Chinese cheongsam with a double pattern of fire wielding demons and wild-eyed horses hugs her lithesome shape. A foot crossing a knee dangles a white two inch pump. An enigmatic smile curls her rouged lips.

An extremely nervous young Asian man in a similar purple and grey jumpsuit with dark eye pieces kneels before them. He has been kneeling for over thirty minutes, awaiting to deliver his report.

"Begin." The voice itself is shocking, wet, like a corpse dragging over gravel.

"I've come with the latest r-report, s-s-sir." His brown eyes dart from the lounging woman to the dark man by the desk and back. "Agents Green, Blue, Purple, and Red have all reported in with positive identification of targets, a-and are ready to execute." He struggles to keep from gasping for breath, but sweat beads his forehead and trickles down his temple.

"And Agent Orange?" asks a rasping voice, like the rustle of wilted branches. The messenger barely resists the urge to shiver at its sound.

"I-," his eyes dart once again to the motionless presence by the desk. He coughs. "I believe Agent Orange's last report had him tracking down a lead that he described as 'most promising.'" A movement from the couch draws his eyes. The woman now holds a meter long white feather-tipped fan. She opens it with an audible snap and begins fanning herself. The kneeling man licks his lips as sweat drops onto his knee. "He estimates two weeks to find the location, another week to excavate."

"Very well." With that, the black man makes his first movement, making a lazy shooing motion at the trembling man on the floor. The man scrambles to his feet and bows, backing away towards the door. He backs out the door which closes with a soft thud.

"Dei." The black man turns to the face the chair, cracking his knuckles. "Tien." The Asian woman glides to her feet, her fan collapsing with a flourish and an audible snap. The chair turns around. Nested in a neatly trimmed beard, a toothsome grin lights the face like a sacrificial fire, the eye patch gleaming milky white.

"Let us begin."


	5. Chapter 5: I Want to Fall

_Interlude_

_Today, I got to mess around with family. In a really good way._

_And I mean -_**serious**_**-**__ messing around. Aviarius was a total pushover. What a dork! Even with all our powers sucked into that bauble and Birdbrain tapping them at will, he was a joke. Where he got that crystal from, I didn't need to know, but when I suddenly had that staff in my hand, it was like a never ending joygasm of power._

_Hego and his self-righteous drivel, Mego and his self-centered whining, and the Wegos... well, ok, they maybe naive but they're still what, 16? And I left so long ago... anyways, I got to stick it to them and show them what their powers could really do._

_But you know, fighting -_**with**_- Kimmie felt even better; it didn't matter if we were on the same team or not, but punch for punch, kick for kick, she was at the top of her game. Even with the staff in my hand, she just turned it up and we rumbled like there was no tomorrow. All the colours of the meteorite and she still dished as much as I did._

_When Drakken showed, I knew it was over. I paused, just for that split second. I knew the only thing I'd never do was break -_**that**_- promise. I'd never let the fucking devil have me. I turned just so, and I knew Kimmie's foot would be there._

_The rest was history. But I can still feel of that fight… it... that... I can't put my finger on it... –_**vibe**_-... from the fight..._

* * *

_Meeting Go's was kinda fun, but they really have some weird villains. Aviarius, a bird themed villain? Okay, so I mostly get mad scientists, but a -_**Bird Man-**_?_

_The best part was finding more about -_**her**_- from her brothers. I knew of the Go's, because of... -_**that**_-... and now, Ron did too. It seems that there was a lot of tension between the family. Hego had a tendency to take the hero thing too far, and Mego was kinda... all-about-me. But then, I got to fight -_**with**_- her. I guess we'd fought so long against each other that we just seemed to… flow together. It was like a ferociously mad cheer routine; no plan or practice but still and always, together. There was a harmony that was just simply perfect._

_When she got the staff though... I thought it was over. But then we tangled, and it was... indescribable. Her claws always a split second behind, using those powers like never before. Super strength, multiples, size changing... and I kept right up with her._

_When Drakken showed up, I saw -_**it**_-. Not a look of frustration, relief or anger... but a look of..._

_I swear, if it was anyone else but her, I would have said -_**fear**_**-**__._

_What could a daredevil super thief with plasma claws and enhanced healing and strength be –_**scared**_**-**__ of? She turned towards Drakken and put her hand out a bit, and I knew…. I just knew what she wanted. So I kicked the staff out of her hand, shattering the power sucking crystal._

_She got away in Drakken's giant robot, but I saw the relief in her body language._

* * *

**Chapter Five – I Want to Fall**

"... And that's what happened, Master Sensei." The blond head was bowed, the shoulders uncharacteristically slumped.

Master Sensei sat on the dais of the inner room, the separating shoji closed for extra privacy. The old martial artist sat on the dais stroking his white wispy beard, his head bent slightly towards the boy who sat before him on the floor. A pink hairless rodent sat on his knee, a paw on his master's arm in consolation. Yori, now recovered from her swoon, her long midnight blue hair held back by her traditional hair band, was seated nearby, her legs folded beneath her. She looked at the young man before her, not embarrassed to face the flood of emotion that poured out of him. Truly, she felt honoured.

"The worst part was that it felt so good!" Ron's face was powerfully anguished. "I mean, when the monkey glow hit, I was, you know, really the sickest monkey master ever! I put some serious smackdown on those freaky aliens, but at the end…." Ron stopped, his eyes haunted, his tight fists gripping the dark fabric of his leggings. "I wanted to get rid of them… I wanted… to… what they did…" Ron turned his face away, inadvertently towards Yori, who saw him bite his lips to contain his emotions, even as tears swam unshed in his soft brown eyes.

"Unh…" Rufus hugged his friend and master.

"No, it's okay, little guy," Ron said softly, wiping at an eye with a finger. "I need to say it." Ron turned back to the silent old man. "I wanted to kill them for taking Kim. I wanted to get rid of them, erase them. And when I threw them, at their crashing ship… I was… satisfied." Ron's head hung low. "It felt great… but after… when I think about it now… the power... the feelings… I just couldn't stay with Kim. That I needed… I just…" His face screwed up like a sour lemon, then released in a frustrated explosion of breath. "I don't know… something…"

"Ron-san," said Dai Sensei and waited for the blond to look up at him. "When a man takes a life, he makes a statement about himself. Whether it be in self-defense, the heat of emotion or in cold calculation, the cutting of a strand that passes so closely to your own can unravel you from the pattern of life."

Ron's eyes grew glazed as Dai sensei spoke, then focused with a snap.

"Uh, Master Sensei, are those meta-fours? Could you, like, drop that down a couple of metas, because I still have trouble with meta-ones."

"What Dai sensei means," Yori spoke, smoothly deciphering Ron's last sentence, "is that when you take a life, no matter how or why, it impacts your own life. If your heart is good, it can wound your spirit irreparably. If you are not, it will lead you further down the path to Hell, to the Chamber of Pounding."

"Ch-chamber of P-pounding?" Ron's eyes dilated. "You have… one of those?" Yori's eyes squinted a bit in humour, but she did not laugh.

"Ron-san," Dai Sensei's voice was heavy with compassion. "Stay with us, and heal your spirit."

* * *

Yori's days were filled with a lightness that could not be hidden. Although she did not act untowardly or differently, there was a strange ephemeral quality to her aura, a certain carefree abandonment in her kuji-in, a fathomless joy in her stance. Even her sparring had become a thing of beauty. She seemed to slip into the flow and ebb of life, her blocks powerful, her movements elusive, her strikes deadly. Or would have been deadly, if her sparring partner did not so often fall over his own feet, lose his trousers or slip on whatever loose object that might happen to be nearby.

Strangely enough Dai Sensei looked on with a twinkle in his eyes and spent much of his time watching the two as they meditated, practiced their kuji-in (or failing to as the case might be for the blond American with funny ears), or sparred with Master Cook. Envy was not the overwhelming response from the rest of the school, but pride and affection. Many of the older students remembered the hero hidden beneath the goofish exterior, who had fought Monkey Fist and his minions, rescued the Lotus Blade and uncovered Fukushima's treachery. The various sensei hid their knowing smiles. The youngsters noticed that Yori Onee-sama had not visited the Pool of Purification since the appearance of the strange Caucasian; but when Master Cook bowed to the freckled man in respect, after being the only person to avoid her snake in the grass trick, a single but cleverly disguised avocado on a great plate of 49 other wasabi maki, the children were in complete awe of the enthusiastic teen. And all the while, a pair of dark eyes under and increasingly unruly mop of dark hair called merciless death upon him.

* * *

Shiro sighed as he turned again in his sleeping position. It had been a day or two that he had been able to sleep. His hands had been idle for nearly a week. The school was starting to stop looking over their shoulders. And it was all her damn fault.

Keiko had been out of sorts for the last two weeks. Neglecting classes, not eating well, not sleeping. Black bags were handing out calling cards with her eyes as the address. She would appear and disappear without telling him, her shadow, her partner in crime, her other half. She'd almost snapped at Hanzo-sensei during her kuji-in training when he berated her for her lack of concentration that foiled her attempt to fade away, a most basic technique. He saw the lines of her torso stretched rigid and taut before she dropped her defiant eyes and accepted the criticism. Hanzo-sensei had also accepted it, showing more understanding and restraint to his sullen student than the others though he'd possessed. He very easily could have censured her for her obviously poor attitude and then Keiko would have had to clean out the latrines for the next two weeks, without kuji-in.

The bronze haired ninja turned over again with a grunt and sat up from his resting spot. He wasn't going to be getting any sleep tonight either. He slid the closet door open, dangled his feet from the closet shelf where he had been sleeping and looked at his futon and decoy body. A wan smile found itself onto his face as he gazed at his masterpiece, where it seemingly breathed and made slight sleepy movements. Even Hanzo-sensei and Fuuko-sensei had yet to figure that one out!

Shiro slipped down onto the tatami, slid the closet door closed behind him, and standing on his table, he pushed aside a wooden ceiling tile and pulled himself easily into his favourite escape route. Favourite because it snaked its way past the girl's change room. Escape route for…. _obvious reasons_, he thought with a smirk. It ended just underneath the roof of the dormitory. He gripped the lip of the roof and swung out, deftly replaced the clay tile that masked the entrance beneath the overhanging traditional roof, then flipped onto the top.

He suddenly crouched low, his eyes searching for the presence he felt. His eyes ran across the shadows of the rising roof and stopped at two places. One was the south apex, where a figure sat, motionless and gazing at the moon, beside the lion statue that protected against spiritual attack. The second was on the north side below the apex, watching the first. A very familiar dark haired shadow. He slowly made his way towards the second figure, ensuring that he passed into her field of vision, not wanting to startle his best friend.

"Chouko," he began, but her eyes were fixed onto the figure above them. Her bloodshot eyes were red rimmed, her face drawn and pale. Shiro watched her for a moment, then sighed and settled beside her, looking the other way. Even from their distance, they could hear the sigh that wafted on the night breeze from the moon watching shadow. They sat, the minutes ticking by, almost an hour before the moon gazer gave a last contented sigh, then stood and leapt off the roof. Keiko, however, made no move to leave. Shiro, now lounging on an elbow, looked at Keiko expectantly.

"Every night," his friend suddenly began to mumble, her face in shadow, looking down. Her body was hunched as if in preparation to receive a blow. "Every night she comes out and watches the moon with a goofy smile and dream-filled sighs. Every night, right before my eyes… she's leaving me…. Leaving me right before my eyes…."

Shiro turned his face away, his eyes worried.

"And why did it have to be –_**him**_-!" the pink haired girl snarled. "If it had been the other one, I could have accepted it. He didn't need to be _saiko_(1), or even cool. Just competent. Gentlemanly. A good match for the shinobi-hime(2) she is…," Keiko's anguished voice continued, her head dropping further. "Why did her heart have to be lost to such a…. a…. buffoon! -_Zakkenayo-_(3)!" Keiko's shoulders began to shake, but Shiro didn't move, his eyes now lidded against the sudden blaze of spirit, knowing what was about to happen.

Keiko's head snapped up, her eyes aflame, her face contorted with fury. She jumped to her feet, her teeth grinding, her canines glinting in the moonlight.

"I will show her…" she forced past gritted teeth. "I will make her see that he is –_**nothing**_-!" She suddenly looked down at the ninja lounging at her feet. "-_**Muko**_-(4)_!_ What in the eighteen levels of jiguko(5) are you _guzu guzu_(6) for! We've got work to do!"

* * *

It seemed it was not only Yori's days that were joyful, but the whole school seemed to be full of smiles. Indeed, the school seemed to be bursting with joy. Still early in summer, as the bright sun shone down on the diligence of the school's students, the very grounds seemed to teem with good will.

Except for three.

Keiko's face was darker and darker by the day. She just could not figure out this problem! The oaf should have been running, screaming for the hills, convulsively and tearfully withdrawing from the school or being wheeled into the morgue. The fire ants they had left in his comforter, Ron had somehow taught to sing in four part barbershop harmony, and had performed a song in the morning after. The lashes and snares that would have pants'd him were always foiled because he never seemed to have pants on during those times. The monumentally difficult prank of taking all the panties of the female students and piling them in his room went to naught when he created a ecologically responsible and strangely selective fishing net with them, catching only large mature fish and leaving the small. Even what had been a highly dangerous coup de grace, the carnivorous cockroaches they had set in his locker were now Ron's friends and worked as the washroom janitors, earning the American the respect of the entire staff and student body.

Shiro was charming as always, so because his pleasant countenance didn't change, the students assumed that he didn't count.

The surprise for many were the lines on Hirotaka's mouth which grew deeper and deeper. Many assumed that he carried a well hidden flame of passion for Yori. His fangirls sighed and swooned at the thought of such a love triangle. And although the powerful ninja felt twinges of jealousy at the disproportionate amount of time the heir of Yamanouchi spent with a young man she'd only known for at most 3 or 4 weeks over a period of 4 years, the popular rumours could not be further from the truth.

Hirotaka had been regulated to spending time with Carolyn Possible. She spoke many languages from her time with the SAS and as a field agent for the CIA; her Japanese was fluent. She spoke about philosophy, art, calligraphy, bareback riding, poetry and… at this Hirotaka would always repress a shudder, -_**shuffleboard**_-. At those interminable periods, the ninja would attempt to hide his discomfort, invariably finding himself staring at Dai Sensei and the pair the old martial artist always seemed to be watching. What preyed heavily on the poor man's mind was although Dai Sensei had summoned him back to the school personally, the old man had not spoken to the wandering ninja since his return.

On this particular day, Carolyn, in a sweater and long skirt even in this hot weather, and Dai Sensei, today wearing a yellow hakama under his kamishimo, were having afternoon tea on the grounds. Around them other students continued their lessons, some sparring, others immersed in their various classes. Again it was Yori and Ron that the two seniors watched. Hirotaka looked on as the pair went back and forth. Yori was dazzling as always, fielding defense when necessary, offense when opportunity arose; Ron rarely took those opportunities. Instead he eluded Yori's onslaught, and took a lesser blow straight on, rolling several feet away. Carolyn noted that only she and Dai Sensei sensed that he had taken that blow not only to avoid much more powerful and crippling follow-up strikes, but to break up the rhythm of the contest.

Hirotaka could not see what was special about this clownish American boy, or why Yori favoured his company above all others.

"They are beautiful together, Ichi-kun," Carolyn said, her knowing eyes on Hirotaka, who twitched unconsciously. Dai Sensei continued to observe, silently. "Stoppable-san seems very capable, but does not dishonour or embarrass her. Very good qualities in a young man."

"Carolyn-chan, you are up to something," Dai Sensei's eyes turned to her with a twinkle.

"You have been very kind to have such a promising young student keep me company. Yet you called Hirotaka here, and he has not been the focus of your training. You have spent much time, however, observing young Stoppable and your granddaughter." Carolyn paused for a moment. "Perhaps I should train Hirotaka instead."

At that, Hirotaka stiffened, his head turning imperceptibly toward the elder couple. Lighting seemed to flash between their eyes, their fighting auras flaring as brightly as the sun, but only for an instant. The students who weren't watching did not notice. But Yori, having long been attuned to Dai Sensei's auras, stepped back and turned to regard the two seniors. Ron picked himself up from where he had rolled to, giving a sheepish smile as Rufus ran up to him with a towel. Calmly, Dai Sensei plucked up a long blade of grass and placed the stem in his mouth.

"Perhaps we should match our teaching skills, ne, Carolyn-chan?" Dai Sensei asked, chewing thoughtfully on the stem. At that, several of the students within earshot fumbled to a stop. What was going on?

"Hirotaka is good, but he has much to learn," Dai Sensei shrugged.

"As does Stoppable-san," retorted Carolyn. She held out her pinky. Her smile seemed tinged with a bit of a smirk as the white haired man hooked his pinky around hers. They shook their pinky promise three times, after which Carolyn stood up with a smile. Dai Sensei turned back to Yori and Ron, who in turn glanced at each other. "A contest, then, in two months. The winner may have leave to court Yori."

Yori stumbled back as if struck by a blow, a flush rising in her face. What had Dai Sensei just done? Ron stood there, gaping. Even Hirotaka gawked in disbelief. The other sensei, sensing that the scene was drawing to a close, chivvied their students back to their lessons. Carolyn's eyes narrowed.

"I think it is you who is up to something, Ichi-kun." With that Carolyn turned to Hirotaka. "Come, we have work to do." With that, she walked off, leaving the ninja to leap to his feet or be left behind. He gave a quick bow to Dai Sensei and hurried after the rapidly departing figure.

Yori regarded her Grandfather. Was this no longer to be her choice? She stared deeply into his eyes, but they had become mirrors, reflecting everything, conceding nothing. After a moment, she spun on her heel and walked towards the mountain trail leading to the Pool of Purification. Ron just stood there holding his towel, his mouth opening and closing as questions whirled through his mind. Eventually, he selected what seemed most appropriate.

"Huh?"

* * *

"Carolyn-sama, I just don't see why this must -" Hirotaka stopped speaking as the old woman turned. The fire that blazed in her eyes brooked no discussion. The ninja had caught up to her in a sheltered lee between two grassy rolling hills just outside of the school's grounds, a pebble strewn path leading from the school, the whitewashed walls standing tall behind them.

"From now, you will address me as Sensei," she spoke quietly. The ninja shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

"Um, no offense, Carolyn-sama, but what could you possibly teach me that I already know? I've traveled the world learni- GYABOUH!"

That last was caused when Carolyn, moving with incredible speed, flash stepped towards the Asian man. Before he knew it, she drove an index finger into his stomach, driving him off his feet, up and away... to land on his back twenty feet from where he had stood.

Hirotaka could not believe what had just happened. Such power and speed! Such control! She had barely touched him, but that single finger had sent him, literally, flying. He slowly sat up, and noticed that his abdomen was unhurt. He patted his stomach on the front, then his sore back, and found a two-inch hole in his clothing directly opposite of her strike point. His eyes opened wide in disbelief. Carolyn held a low stance, her left hand forward, the right aligned with her left shoulder. Her index fingers were pointed slightly downward, her other fingers curled into her palms. Slowly, she straightened, her feet apart, her left hand on a cocked hip in a pose that Hirotaka was sure he'd seen before.

"There is much to learn, much for me to teach you, and only two months to prepare. Or is it your desire to forfeit Yori-hime to Stoppable-san?" The last was delivered with a raised eyebrow.

He immediately caught the honorific she used with Yori's name; the old woman had called her a Princess, and indeed she was. Yori was truly a Ninja Princess, the Heir of Yamanouchi, the last true ninja of the line of the Founder, Toshiro. Hirotaka's mind raced. He didn't know what he was thinking. Would he fight for pride? Honour? Glory? No, this was not that kind of fight. To prove himself worthy? No, he knew that Yamanouchi would always be his in a way it would never be Ron-san's.

Did he harbour feelings for his childhood friend? The girl who had caught beetles and chased dragon flies with him? Who had giggled at his jokes, never demanding more of him like other females? Who never told him what to do or judged him for his wanderlust?

Images of Yori welled up in his mind, flooding into him. Such a refined girl! How could he countenance such a pairing, with such a foolish seeming... boy! He had to stop this and protect her. This was his one chance to help his friend. He scrambled to his knees and performed a deep bow, knees wide apart, his hands flat, fingers inward, his forehead between.

"Please, take care of me! Sensei!"

* * *

It was not even supper when the news had blazed through the school. It was the topic on everyone's lips. Stoppable-san, hero of Yamanouchi and Insei-san, idol of Yamanouchi, to fight for the love of Yori, the Shinobi-hime of Yamanouchi? Incredible! Unheard of!

Shiro immediately started several betting pools. One was for the outcome of the contest. One was for whether Yori would accept the winner of the contest. One was exactly what could Possible-san possibly teach the school's male idol. The last was regarding the sanity of Dai Sensei in suggesting such a thing.

Keiko's fighting spirit blazed forth once more. _The enemy of my enemy is my friend_, she thought. She resolved to help Hirotaka in any way possible.

As the dinner gong rang out and the old man went to the dining hall, Ron approached Dai Sensei, his face full of befuddlement.

"Look, uh, Master Sensei," Ron began," I don't know if this is a good idea..." Dai Sensei's eyes turned and seemed to burn into him causing Ron to look at everything else. "W-what I mean is..." he stammered, then forcibly shook his head. Gathering courage, he faced Dai Sensei and looked him in the eye. "I think it's wrong, to do this to Yori." Dai Sensei's gaze seemed to knife through him. Suddenly, Dai Sensei began to laugh.

"Stoppable-san," Dai Sensei chuckled. "With those words, you have soothed an old man's heart, and also passed your first test."

"Test? And I passed?" Ron asked. "Abooyahhh...- 'cept I don't know what I was being tested for... Next time, could you at least give the person some warning?" Dai Sensei put a hand on his shoulder.

"Come Stoppable-san, let us have dinner."

* * *

"Uh, Master Sensei, do we really need to do this?" asked Ron, his face full of fear.

"How can you master your mind, when you cannot master something as simple as your own body, Ron-san?"

"Yeah, but, Master Sensei," squeaked Ron from where he was hugging a grey stone outcropping, "usually people don't train where you could fall for 200 feet before hitting the mat!"

The sun shone brightly in a crystal sky, sparkling on the waves beneath the strange stone rock that thrust itself several hundred feet above. A small sculling boat bobbed placidly below the formation, two students shielding their eyes as they looked up. Several yards or more separated other similar formations; solid rock geological structures of various heights and sizes rose of the lake. This was a rare rock formation called a "Stone Forest". And this was the spot that Dai Sensei had chosen for Ron's training.

"Your training will be very simple. Travel to the cliff edge over there without getting wet," Dai Sensei said, pointing in the direction of a strange looking plateau, around which the water seemed to rush towards.

"But Master Sensei,… I don't really know how to swim!" Ron gripped the safety of the stone even tighter. Dai Sensei turned slowly towards the young man. Ron was shocked by how frail and aged he looked in that moment. Tired,… and sad.

"Then perhaps Yori, truly…" the old man's voice trailed off. "Remember, Ron-san. You ARE the monkey master. You were ready when you faced the Lorwardians. But if you are to increase your healing, you must not fear the power that you have been fated to receive. And Yori,… will need you in the near future, I believe."

Ron's mouth opened for a moment, then his expression turned serious.

"You're right, Master Sensei." He released his grip on the rock and raised a hand to shade his brown eyes as he gazed at the end point. "So I just have to get over there, right?" asked Ron turning his head to look at Dai Sensei, who simply nodded. He took a deep breath, standing straight, his arms spreading wide, the, as he exhaled slowly, he brought his hands over his head, then down, until the palms were together, over his heart. His eyes snapped open. "Okay, let's –_**do**_- this!" With that, he took a running leap off the rocky outcrop.

And bounced off the side of the next looming formation and fell with a cry into the water. The students in the boat pushed towards the floundering young man as Dai Sensei shook his head with a small smile.

* * *

Shiro though that this must be the most miserable he's been in a long time. After a week of this duty, he knew not to eat before hitting the water. He was slumped over the prow of the boat, attempting to keep his empty stomach from depositing itself in the water. At the sculling oar, Keiko stood, shielding her eyes against the rain that beat down on them, moving the oar slightly to maintain position in the grey waves. A miserable day all round.

"Chouko, I don't think I can do this for much longer," Shiro groaned as he turned and lay on his back.

"Oh?" she replied, her tone light and happy. At the first she was worried, as Dai Sensei was training the buffoon himself. But after several weeks of jumping, falling and near drowning, her heart felt infinitely lighter. "This is a lot of fun. Seeing him jump, seeing him fail… he must be truly inept if even Dai Sensei cannot help him."

"Then we can stop, yes?" Shiro mumbled. The petite ninja looked at her friend.

"You can be lazy after the contest, you –" Keiko stopped talking and held motionless for a moment. The sound of the rain smacking the waves permeated her sudden silence.

"What-?"

"Look there!" she said in a low voice. Shiro pushed up onto an elbow and looked toward the eastern shoreline of the lake. After a moment, he spoke.

"I see nothing. What did you see?"

"I'm not sure. A flash of orange, maybe …?" she wondered, questioning herself. Above, a yell sounded and a blond headed figure in black splashed into the water about ten yards away. Keiko laughed, lazily pulling the small craft around as Shiro knelt, ready to lift the American into the boat. Already, she was thinking of telling Hirotaka how many times the fool had fallen into the water.

* * *

Carolyn and Dai Sensei sat in his room, the fragrance of the barley tea wafting through the room, nudged on by a slight breeze lazing across the practice grounds and through the window. She wore her customary cardigan and long skirt, he in his hakama and kamishimo. The old man sipped from a small ceramic cup. Carolyn rested her chin in her right hand, the elbow propped up on the low table. A twin cup warmed her other hand.

"It pleases me to no end that you still have this set, Ichi-kun," she said, her gaze fondly on her friend. Again, Dai Sensei raised the cup to his lips.

"There are memories that would never forgive me if I were to lose them, I think," was his reply. "I still remember that summer well. The Emperor had asked me, his Yamanouchi representative, to liaise with the Regional American spymaster to ensure there were no problems with the surrender(7). His excuse was that he could not be seen to side with the cruel gaikokujin(8) conquerors. I think he secretly feared to meet, or had heard who the spymaster was."

"We'd leaked that to his aides a day prior," Carolyn nodded. Dai Sensei turned to her in surprise.

"I did not know that," he admitted. "When I first saw you, I thought, if this is a foreign devil, I would be glad to live in jigoku."

"You are more free with your thoughts now, Ichi-kun," Carolyn laughed, "when I first saw you, I thought the Emperor was playing a joke, sending a child to meet me. Of course, I wasn't much older myself," she shrugged.

"Your time in China was not easy, but it certainly gave you audacity." Carolyn laughed again, with genuine pleasure.

"Temper, you mean." They chuckled together.

"Of course," Carolyn continued, "it wasn't until we caught that gun running ring in Nagoya that I truly respected you and your quiet ways. I must have been blind not to notice your obvious training."

"Yes. That night was… rather frantic. I was concerned when your message did not request support."

"I thought I could take them."

"Even a highly trained agent can do little against a battalion of armed men."

The two sat quietly, deep in thought.

"I was… really scared, Ichi-kun. I thought I was dead," Carolyn said softly. "When they caught me, the things they said, said they would do,… and me alone,..." She bit her lip, then took a quick sip of tea. Dai Sensei reached over with the teapot and smoothly refilled her cup. She automatically tapped her finger in thanks and gave a small abashed smile. She had done the same when he had first poured tea for her, all those years ago. The right action in the wrong culture.

"It was my honour to be there, Carolyn-chan, and to be of some use to you." They sat again in silence, sharing a fleetingly precious moment.

"Ahh, those days were truly dire," Dai Sensei sighed.

"As are these days," was her reply. "Tell me, how has young Stoppable fared after a month of training?"

Dai Sensei laughed heartily.

"Very wet! Although he has not been able to summon the Mystical Monkey Power as he did during the Lorwardian invasion, he has been able to tap it." Dai Sensei's humour quirked the corner of his mouth. "I have seen a little butterfly watching our progress; surely you know our progress?"

It was Carolyn's turn to laugh. Keiko had been spying regularly on the blond since the beginning of training, giving detailed reports of both what had occurred and what had been said. Hirotaka found the constant reports an annoyance and probably felt that it was somewhat dishonourable. Carolyn felt that Keiko needed the activity to prevent her from going mad.

"Yes, that little chou has been most diligent! But our Hirotaka is very honourable."

"Has he learned the Long Fist style yet?" Dai Sensei leaned over the table. Carolyn shrugged.

"Well, he has progressed very rapidly. He masters the physical aspects so easily! But that is a great weakness as well," added Carolyn with a sad smile.

"Yes, I knew you would discover it quickly. His physical prowess is intimidatingly excellent, but his spirit is very weak," Dai Sensei nodded in agreement. "Well, it is almost July, as you westerners count it." He turned to her, a twinkle in his eye. A twinkle that was returned.

* * *

His eyes snapped open, sweat running like rivers down his brow, his wheezing and slowing breath sounding like an old steam train coming out of the night and pulling in the station. He raised his hand from his legs, folded for meditation, to his brow but stopped when he saw it was shaking like a leaf. It was then that he noticed the woman beside him.

She too was seated in a lotus position, her breath also coming short and fast, slowing as the shock of adrenaline was pierced by consciousness. Her loose gi was stuck to her heaving chest but he ignored the form that it plastered itself to.

"W-what…" she croaked out. It was all she could do at the moment. The feeling of dread and impending doom still hung like a pall over her mind, even as her mind was clawing its way out of the morass of emotions.

"A…. a.. mom-moment…. Please," he gasped, his eyes closed as he sought his wa. But he felt that his wa would never be the same again. Death and destruction stung his fading subconscious thoughts, but at least his breathing came under control. A dark figure, lean, tall, menacing, filled with such malice and greed the body seemed to devour the light. Dai Sensei shook his head once again to dispel the horrific image.

Dai Sensei opened his eyes and looked into the eyes of Carolyn Possible. It was still a moment before he trusted his voice to speak. But when he did, it did not dispel the fear in her eyes.

"It has begun."

Bright emerald eyes gazed back at him.

"Then we must be prepared."

* * *

(1) saiko – This is gyaru-moji for the English word "psycho". It means cool.

(2) Shinobi-hime – Shinobi is the Japanese word for ninja. Hime is the honourific for a princess, so you put the two together you get Ninja Princess.

(3) Zakkenayo – This is gyaru-moji that is frequently translated as "Don't fuck with me!" But I've heard it's closer to "Don't mess with me!"

(4) Muko – More Japanese slang. I think this one means "Damn you?"

(5) Jiguko – the Shinto version of Hell. Depending on what kind you believe in there can be over 130 realms of Hell.

(6) Guzu guzu – I used it here for Keiko to call Shiro a lazy bum.

(7) Yes, I'm talking about the End of the Pacific Theatre of World War II.

(8) Gaikokujin - Foreigners


	6. Chapter 6: Desire

_Interlude_

_In the good ol' outdoors. Nothing beats a brisk freeclimb up the side of a sheer cliff. What sucked was little helmet head got to li'l Doctor D's doohicky before we did. If he'd only let ME do the hiring, we wouldn't have been too little too late. So of course, when he hears Henchco's got enhancement rings, it's whine whine whine, blah-blah-blah until I say -_**Alright**_-! I'll get you your stupid rings, just shut -_**up**_- already!_

_Then it's off to Las Vegas, Nevada. Not a bad place, although I prefer the islands;more privacy, better service._

_But why would you -_**want**_- to go on vacation with your goon squad? Helmet-head needs to, like maybe, -_**get a life**_-?_

_Turns out, Princess is there too, for what, I don't care, in her cargos which does nothing for her, but as I'm making my own grey pile of muscle heads, she's making her own red goon pyramid. Then it was time to mix it up with the cheerleader; I got some pretty good jibes but then she knocks that whatchamawhozits out of my hand and Doctor D activates it!_

_The -_**weirdest**_- fucking thing is, the -_**buffoon**_- saves the day and the sidekick's weird pink rat sidekick puts Doctor D on his back!_

_It was kinda fun though, squirming in the vent and fighting with Princess for the doohicky. Weird, huh._

* * *

_I'd always wondered where villains get their stuff. Now I know, because I actually pulled a job for the guy! And boy, was he -_**sleazy**_-. slicked hair, that fake businessman grin. I think Wade wanted to put something on Jack, to be honest._

_Talking about sleaze, the whole sitch was weird. We ended up breaking and entering into a hotel, gawd,... I still can't believe we did that... after seeing Shego and crew take a plunge in the outdoor pool. Whatever I did, Shego was right there with me. Fighting for the Pan Dimensional Vortex Inducer, trying to grab it in the vent. That was actually kinda... fun... until uber Ron showed up and yanked us both out._

_And who was the hero of the day? Rufus._

* * *

**Chapter Six - Desire**

Shego just could NOT believe it. She'd never felt so…. Satisfied. Fulfilled.

She lay on her back, breathing hard, sweat pouring from her body, filled with the sweet languishing aftermath. Her eyes fluttered, but she could not bring them open, not quite yet. Her body ignored all messages, even as her mind was telling it to getupgetUPgettheFUCKUP!

_Ohmigawd, I don't think anyone's –_**ever**_- worked me like that... And I feel…. Great!_ After a minute more, her breathing began to slow and she cracked open her deep green eyes.

To find the sea staring back at her. Mercurial. Mysterious. Staring back at her, partially hidden by flame red hair. A wide grin peeking out from those fiery strands, the woman lying on her belly, beside her. Shego wondered if she wore the same goofy grin under her own sweat soaked locks, but was too tired to be sure what her facial muscles were doing. _Are they betraying me_?

"Can you get up," the red-head panted.

"No," Shego barely gasped out. "That was,… something... else!"

The two of them lay on the light grey practice mats inside a martial arts school that Shego had picked out. She'd heard of the little old Chinese man who ran the Guong Wu (1) Kung Fu Academy from foreign students who'd been hanging out in the nearby coffee bar. Apparently, the whole school was going down to Disney World for a national tournament.

* * *

Shego had stepped into the school building near closing time and asked to speak to the Sig­ung(2). That would typically bring out the eldest Sifu (3), as most schools this size would have several.

The counter in the spartan eggshell white storefront was manned by a young Asian man in bright blue, white trimmed traditional pants and shirt with elaborate white knot fasteners. Behind him on the wall hung the traditional school's flags, triangular swathes of polyester, white scalloped trim and characters on a dark blue background on the left flag, the opposite colouring on the right, both sporting the school's alliance with the But Lum Pai (4). He was playing a little silver and black handheld game gadget. Not silk, she noted looking at his shirt, but made of polyester.

The young man waved her through a narrow passage that led past him and told her to ask for Wang Sifu. Stepping into the back, she noticed the school seemed to be a renovated warehouse. High, uncovered ceiling, wide open space. A series of sturdily constructed smaller rooms were situated to the left the main mat filled exercise room with practise mats and mirrors opposite.

A small wizened old man with a white Fu Manchu moustache(5) appeared, moved slowly towards her, paused a few paces away. He regarded her for a moment as she bowed low and made her request. Students in white short sleeved undershirts and loose dark blue pants were packing up their gear and heading for a nearby bubble tea karaoke bar, leaving a smattering of "See you tomorrow, Sifu!" "Later, Sifu!" in their wake. When the last had departed, he gestured her towards the mats.

"You wish to train here?" His voice was brittle with age.

"No, Wang Sifu. My friend and I simply wish to rent this facility so that we may spar," Shego said, following him to the practise mats, and added, "I had heard from some of the visa students that the school will be empty due to your participation at the national tournament."

"A very unusual request! What is your name, Miss?" She knew this question would arise.

"I am known as Shego. The person I will be sparring with is Kim Possible," she attempted to use a calming and gentle voice, but his eyes lit up at the mention of Kim's name.

"Ah! Miss Kim! She is known to us and very dear. She has been a great help to me and my family." But then he turned his piercing eyes towards her and she felt his fighting aura suddenly flare. Not strongly, but strong enough. "You, however," he continued, "are also known to me."

Shego simply waited. She should have known that it would be like this. The year that she'd gone "legit" had not been easy for her. Both sides of the law distrusted her to an extreme and only the very rich and paranoid had applied for her security consultant services. Which helped her bottom line, but not her social life. She deliberately kept her calm, knowing how traditions worked. When he turned away from her, she expected disappointment.

"Show me your Loung Kuen(6)," the wizened old man said instead.

Shego blinked. That caught her by surprise. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Her black cotton groove yoga pants and black tank top under a loose forest green sweater would have to do. Her flowing black locks were tied back with a matching green scrunchie. She quickly slipped off her black sandals, and placed them neatly by the edge of the mats. She then doffed her sweater, folding it neatly on top of her sandals under the old man's gaze. Little things have great meaning in Guong Wu. She took a relaxed standing stance in the middle of the mats.

She breathed in, then out and began, taking a sinuous step to widen her stance, her arms rising together to her chest, then smoothly outwards her hands in a loose claw form. Repeated, just as sinuous, in a lower stance, suddenly striking out to her left. Slipping back, charging forward, hands grabbing, clutching, swirling, legs and feet a blur. Leaping, clawing, a series of kicks, low and high. After a minute, she came back to her center position, ending in a neutral, relaxed stance. She then bowed to the small Sifu, hand over fist.

"Southern style I see," was all he said.

"Yes, Wang Sifu," Shego nodded, then shrugged, "I have mastered the Northern as well, but the clutch and arm lock techniques don't play to my strengths."

"You have great power and astonishing speed." He paused, giving her an intense look. After a moment, his eyes relaxed and said, "I would be honoured if you would use our school while we are away for the tournament in Florida," Wang Sifu said, holding a set of keys for her.

Shego grinned, pleasantly surprised.

* * *

And that was how she found herself, three weeks after the banquet, completely exhausted and lying on the floor. The night Kim said yes, she'd already had the keys, and they had run around the school, laughing like children in a candy shop with a fifty dollar bill.

Kim heaved herself to a sitting position, leaving wet smears on the mat. Her white sports top and powder blue boogie yoga pants were soaked with sweat. She attempted standing, heaving herself up from her hands and knees, only to flop wearily on her rump with an "Oof!"

"I guess the saying that red-heads are crazy is true, hunh," Shego chuckled as she rolled to her side and propped her head up with a hand.

"Just don't want you using up all the hot water like the last few days," Kim shot back, her eyes on the change room doors. Kim pushed herself to very shaky legs with a grunt and shuffled towards the back, past the mirrored back wall and the wooden practice dummies.

Shego continued to relax. But there was something really working the back of her head the last few days. Something that worried her. Something that made her think she might be breaking one of two promises she made to herself all those years ago. Promises she vowed she'd never break.

Three weeks of sparring, every day. They had a set schedule: starting at six, a morning run; the 10 kilometer sprint was followed by Tai Chi Chuan, with Kim doing her 67 combined forms and Shego a little known classical form that ran to 132 in opposite corners of the exercise floor; then some pushing hands. By that time, they were limbered up with a light sheen of sweat and were ready to rumble.

The winner of the sprint chose weapon or hand-to-hand, but their ground rules remained the same: no plasma, blunted claws, no gadgets and no holding back. They were glad the Academy had such a large main sparring area; the school ran the club for a large contingent of students at Kim's university. They even had an annual demonstration at the beginning of the year and a Chinese New Year parade. Nearby Chinese establishments frequently hired their lion dancers to bless store openings and business ventures.

Kim's style was starting to incorporate some modern forms which surprised Shego: some CQC (taught to her by a very grateful CIA agent when she saved his family from sliding into a sinkhole in Pennsylvania), Krav Maga (from a Mossad master when Kim saved her from a rockslide in Africa; "Don't ask, won't tell"), Brazilian Jujitsu and Capoeira (Kim confessed she'd always wanted to learn breakdancing.) Shego stuck to a very fluid amalgam of classical Asian forms, soft and hard, circular and direct, which surprised Kim. They ranged freely and a few times had traded blows in the steel frame rafters 25 feet above the floor, or atop the small practice rooms set to the side.

The problem reared its ugly head a four days prior. It was after the first "fight 'til you drop" sessions; Kim's bottomless reserve of energy had her in the showers before the crème de mint coloured woman recovered enough to stand. Shego typically did some yoga to re-center and balance herself, but with her muscles trembling as they were, she had foregone that and had headed to the showers a full ten minutes after the red-head, figuring the girl would be out of the showers by then_._

_Not that I don't mind showing off_, she told herself, _I just like my privacy_. In reality, the taunts and near abuse she suffered in school showers had taught her one thing as a teen: people don't like freaks. As all finally understand as adults, the drive to be different more often than not force teens to conform; as long as they weren't conforming to their perceived adult values and sense (or as most thought, lack) of style, it was acceptable in their world. Having green skin and a temper went a long way to ostracize anyone.

She had finally dragged herself to the change room and took off her dark green cotton groove pants, her black sports top, and picked up her towel. No Kimmie and water still running.

_Damn it Princess, you better not have used up all the hot water_, Shego huffed to herself.

But when she entered the showers, she froze.

Sunlight streamed down from a row of high, south facing rectangular frosted windows into the communal showers. Water cascaded like shooting stars from the nozzle. Steam filled the room, like clouds from heaven. And in the midst of the rays of light was a girl that Shego could not take her eyes off.

Kim's hair hung in tendrils of golden fire. The sunlight reflected off the pooling water at her feet, chasing shimmers of light across her smooth toned skin. Water droplets sparkled on her like diamonds, the running water forming golden bands that ran down her hair, past her shoulders, her small breasts. Down her tapered waist, her slim hips, between her shapely thighs... Shego whirled about, slamming her back against the wall by the shower entrance. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath. Her heart pounded, her mind whirled, her eyes wide with shock. Her face was stained a dark green.

-_**WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT**_!- she screamed in her mind.

"Shego?" floated a questing voice from the steaming room. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, Pumpkin!" Shego had called back, trying to force down her rampaging heartbeat. Kim poked her head out of the showers, a wide grin on her face.

"Still plenty of hot water, but not for long! C'mon!" With that the redhead slipped back to the water.

_Gawd, even her teeth are perfect_, Shego thought, then she screamed in her head again with frustration. _StopitstopitstopitSTOPIT_! she told herself. _Remember, you hate cheerleaders_! She stepped into the showers, hoping the psychedelic sunlight and mist would hide her deep blush.

Shego had never showered or prepped so quickly in her life. Of course, Kim noticed.

"What's the sitch, Shego?" Kim cocked her head a bit, while moisturizing her silky smooth legs. Shego forced herself to look at her eyes. "What are you hurrying for?"

"Need something to drink, Princess," Shego said as she stuffed her exercise bag, her hair still damp. With that she almost ran out of the change room, calling over her shoulder, "See you at Manic!"

_There's something wrong with me... something wrong! _Shego was saying to herself. In her hurried escape, she missed the small smile on a certain red-head.

Kim had noticed since that day, Shego had held something back during their spar sessions, and almost always hit the showers first while Kim wound down with a more meditative 24 form Tai Chi. In the shower and the change room, Shego's eyes were fixed at shoulder height and above. She dressed and primped at record speeds, always first out the door and securing their now regular table at Manic, the diner down the street. The ex-villainess's discomfort made Kim feel all giggly, but she resolved herself to not tease the green-tinted woman... although sometimes she was just soooo cute. Especially when she was attempting to hide her blush.

Kim had dealt with her crush on Shego. She knew what she wanted. But apparently, this was new for the brunette. Kim gave a mental shrug; _it's only a matter of time_, she thought as she disrobed and hit the showers. If it continued any further though, Kim might have to "sneak attack" the woman. She smirked to herself at the thought.

Shego sat up from a series of stretches and sighed, hanging her head. Now she was going to have to deal with a perky red-head. Wet, and perky. Nude, wet and perky. In hot water_. In and out, no distractions, no quarter_(7), she told herself. She stood, looking at the change room doors. She clenched her will tightly, she squared her shoulders and entered the change room.

* * *

It was time for surgery.

She didn't want to do this. It was way out of her field of expertise. The equipment available was substandard and not all that esthetically pleasing. But her hands were steady. She could see how her skill flowed within her; a science and an art. She knew she was going to chicken out.

"Pumpkin," Shego said, as she laid down her biscotti. "I gotta tell you something..."

The two sat at a small round table inside the small redstone house converted into coffee bistro. Like every university, a number of establishments thrived on the student body. There was Bubba's the authentic Montreal poutine house. There was Angelo's, the twenty-four hour pizzeria. There was Raspberry Club or "The Raz", pumping out heavy beats and alcohol until 7 in the morning.

Kim and Shego sat at a small table in the Rex and Regal, the twenty-four-seven barista bistro. It was a quaint little hole in the wall in the middle of student ghetto housing, where the arts students hung out in the daytime and evenings and where the engineers and computer geeks crashed for late night sessions. Shego had a latte with a butterfly design poured in; Kim stuck to hot cocoa. They had just made it in before the lunch crowd, mostly the geeks coming in for their wake-up joe.

"You know there's no age limit for coffee, right?" Shego teased, chickening out. Their table was in the back, away from the coffee bar and noise.

"Not everyone has nothing to do but file nails you know." Then she ducked her head a bit, with a blush and said, "you wouldn't want to see me on a caffeine high."

"Is that why we've never been here?" Shego raised an eyebrow.

"Caffeine and Kim, not a good mix." Kim wished Shego would just drop it.

"What? You started it. Now you're going to leave me hanging?" Shego looked at the design on her untouched latte.

"... Let's just say... bouncing off the walls wouldn't begin to scratch the surface," Kim tried to put the issue to bed.

"So you get a little tweaked?" Shego wondered, her cup halfway to her lips.

"I didn't sleep for three days," Kim said.

"That can't be good," Shego's cup paused again.

"During which I repainted my building's interior for the landlady and picked up the trash on the entire campus grounds, answered every question posed at every class, rhetorical or not."

"Kimmie, the caffeine maniac. I'd hate to see you drunk," Shego quipped with a smirk.

"It's something about 'real' coffee, I guess. Never had that problem at Tim Horton's."

"Pfft! Like -_**that's**_- real coffee..." Shego snorted derisively.

Shego sipped her cup; her eyes widened as she gave an involuntary groaned. Kim glanced at the girl across from her as the green hued woman took another slurping sip. Dark lashes fluttered as an even deeper, louder groan escaped from her lips. People were turning their heads to look. Kim flushed as another, extremely provocative moan was unleashed.

"Shego!" Kim hissed at the moaning ex-thief. "What is with you!"

"Oh my god, Kimmie..." Shego looked down at her empty cup. "I have GOT to get some of those beans!"

"Well, they've got a fifteen dollar cup you can get here, a blend called Esmeralda Especial(8)..." Shego's eyes widened, pupils dilated.

"Fif-fifteen...? And this one was only six..." The green hued woman sat there thinking about it in a daze. "I don't think I could survive that..."

"I'd never have taken you for a kaffeeklatsch(9)," Kim smiled.

"Well, when you travel with Drakken," Shego shrugged, "you don't get a lot of time to track down decent coffee. Hell after a twenty hour flight, I'll drink any kind of swill as long as it's got kick."

"Twenty hours?" Kim raised an eyebrow. "Where have you guys been?"

"Just me. I run an international security consulting firm on the side," Shego waved a dismissive hand. "One woman show, and -_**very**_- exclusive. I've got remote offices all over with different names: Erasmus Securities; Sing Fau Secu; Securité d'Absolut; Wurm, Turm und Radl; Gandaspati Consulting Services; Bangfai Payanak; Kitsunebi Bouei Kaisha...(10)"

"Wow. I recognize the French and German, but I have no idea about half of what you just said," Kim mused. "You speak all those languages?"

"Cantonese, French, German and Japanese. The rest think it's exotic to have an English speaking consultant at their beck and call. Oh, and passable Taiwanese Mandarin; much softer than the harsh Beijing accent."

Beep-beep be-beep.

Kim frowned. She'd asked Wade to divert any site hits for the next several weeks. Why was her Kimmunicator beeping now? Unless it was a real emergency...

Beep.

"Wade...?"

The young boy's face was bouncing up and down. The sound of machinery and running feet came out of the small screen on Kim's wrist. Shego felt a guilty rush of relief, not having to talk to Kim about... that... yet...

"Hey Kim,.. gotta,... urgent hit,... from GJ," Wade panted out, obviously on a treadmill. "Know you,... asked me,... to redirect,... but they,... asked for you!" Kim sat back for a moment, thinking.

"I know I started you on the health kick, Wade," Kim raised an eyebrow, "but could you stop for a moment to give me the sitch?"

"Whoo!" Wade disappeared from view as he jumped off the treadmill and disappeared from his "treadcam". "S'okay,... I'm,... done,... Hahhh!" Kim could hear his puffing breath getting farther away. Suddenly, the video feed flickered as his automated system switched to the camera by his main terminal. Kim could see him standing in a black bodyarmor top and shorts a few feet away from the keyboard, bathed in a faint red light, which puzzled her.

"Okay, see me?" Wade asked as he donned two black gloves with metallic fingertips. He started making deliberate motions, as if performing some modern interpretive dance.

"Uh, Wade," Kim kept watching his strange movements. "You're going all Minority Report on me." Wade looked startled for a moment, then laughed sheepishly. Kim glanced up at Shego, who was stirring her latte with the biscotti, returning her gaze. Shego's eyebrow raised in the universal, "Well?" look. Kim shrugged.

"Ahaha, no it's a little something I wrote; virtual 3D desktop using the Wiimote and an infrared lamp. Anyway," he said as he used his left middle and pointing fingers to move something off to the side. He push something back with a firm palm, then seemed to lasso something closer.

"There seems to be some unusual activity at an off-shore oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico, near the Islands," he squinted, jabbing at the air. "A semi-submersible. Looks like it was evacuated due to Hurricane Quixote, coming in, but one of the evacuees said when he looked back it seems like there was some movement on the main level." Wade continued to move and Kim stopped looking at her Kimmunicator. Somehow the strangeness of the motions required to use the virtual program threw her off and was just as strange to watch. "GJ satellites indicate a sub in the area. No identifiable markings, but definitely not American, Russian or Chinese. Looks like a private make."

"I only know one guy who owns his own sub," Kim said.

"Triple S," Wade and Kim said together.

"But isn't he still in jail?" Kim tapped her chin in confusion.

"Yep, but it's definitely his mercs. The hi-res satellite images show men in grey pants, black long sleeves and sunglasses," Wade frowned in puzzlement. "Although why they're doing this with an approaching hurricane is beyond me. The hurricane's not going to block the spy-sats."

"I bet the eye is going to pass right over that spot. How big is the eye?" Kim asked. She glanced down, seeing wade waving his arms and even seeming to type in midair.

"Right in one; the eye will hit in about 5 hours. The wind and waves will hamper any of their efforts until the eye passes over. It's not that big, but this hurricane's pretty slow moving. I'd say we could get you there for a HALO jump so you can hit the platform just as the eye breaks over the rig."

"So why can't GJ handle this?"

"Doctor Director said their resources in that area were already engaged somehow," Wade shrugged. "It's probably got to do with that big drug smuggling bust they've been planning."

"Wade! Have you been hacking into the GJ computers again?" Kim tsked, waving her finger at her Kimmunicator as the lean muscled boy laughed.

Suddenly, a green hand seized Kim's arm and turned the Kimmunicator towards a menacing scowl. Kim had been so intent of Wade that she hadn't noticed the light footed woman get up.

"Yo, nerdlinger! You're going to send Princess into a fucking -_**hurricane**_- just to rumble with a bunch of goons?"

"Sh-shego?! What are you doing there?" Wade's eyes widened as he stuttered. Kim smacked her forehead; she hadn't told Wade why she'd asked for the 4 week hiatus from hero work.

"Um,... Shego?" Kim started.

"If you'd take your head out of your -_**ass**_-, you'd be living in my world, you know the real one?" Shego's eyes were positively burning.

Suddenly, a small periscope lifted out of the Kimmunicator and bathed Kim with a blue light.

"Hmmm, no mind control chip," Wade muttered. "Kim! Kim are you there?" Kim wrenched her arm from the brunette's grip.

"Yeah Wade, I'm here, I'm ok," Kim shot Shego a pleading look, causing the verdant coloured woman to sit down in a huff. Shego crossed her arms, her scowl still creasing her brow. "It's okay, Shego, I've been doing this for years, right?" Kim whispered across the table.

"Uh, okaaayyy," Wade, looked cautiously dubious. "Well, your ride should pick you up on the roof of your apartment in 30 minutes. Need back up?" Kim thought for a moment, then grinned.

"Naw, I'll work something out."

"If you say so..." Wade gave her another one of his stares, then shook his head. "Don't forget your KPS, you'll need it for the schematics and other details I'm going to send you."

"Right. Later Wade!" The red-head was starting to glow; Shego could see it as she had all those years past. Kim was getting her game on. Shego didn't like this one bit, especially with the mission cutting into their lunch time. Kim started waving for one of the staff.

"Pumpkin, I-" Shego stopped. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say.

"It's okay, Shego," Kim interrupted then asked the waiter as he stopped by to pack their food. He whisked their plates away.

"Hey, I wasn't finished with that!" Shego glared at Kim.

"We'll eat it on the way."

"WHAT?"

Kim looked at the woman, who was speechless for once, her mouth hanging open. "C'mon, it'll be fun! Of course... you don't have to come if you're not up to it, we did spar pretty heavily this morning..."

"You're nuts! There's a fucking hurricane coming and you want to jump right into the middle of it? You know, -hurricane- with lighting, wind, hail and shit like that?" Shego's voice was starting to rise.

"And I've been through worse and come out on top." Kim stood and turned as the man returned and placed a plastic bag with two Styrofoam containers and a travel cup on the table and handed her the bill. "My treat, since I beat you."

"Like hell you did!" Shego stood, a hand on her hip. "I bet I can bag more goons than you in less than half the time it takes for the eye to pass over."

"And what colour is the sky in your world…?"

Shego's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Get your shit together Pumpkin. You've got a date with me, and I'm ordering the lobster!"

* * *

(1)Guong Wu Kung Fu Academy - Yeah, so I made this up, but for those familiar with Chinese Kung Fu movies or series, the "Martial Arts World" is called Guong Wu. Many heroes or tragic figures have attempted to leave "Guong Wu" only to have their past catch up to them, and usually not in a good way.

(2) Sigung - Literally, Teacher Grandfather. Usually the top dog of the school, depending on how many generations of Sifu are in the school. A large school will typically have at least two if not more levels of Sifu.

(3) Sifu - Literally, Teacher Father. This is the regular title of martial arts teachers. Heavily hierarchical, Kung Fu uses philial terms to denote your relationship to particular members of your school. Thus you get Sihing (Teaching Elder Brother, similar to the Japanese Sempai), Sidai (Teaching Younger Brother, similar to Kohai), Sijieh (Teaching Elder Sister), Simui (Teaching Younger Sister) and even Sibaht/Sisuk (Teaching Elder/Younger Uncle, used for the Sihing and Sidai of your own Sifu.) As you can see it can get REALLY complicated! But just like the genealogies of Europe, this allows Asians to know exactly where they stand in the family, and to whom they must defer. Of course, the older, the more fundamental respect.

(4) But Lum Pai - Ok, so I made this up too, but literally, it means Northern Forest Clan.

(5) Fu Manchu moustache - This can be seen as stereotypical of Chinese people, but in my mind, it is also cultural. Although you rarely see it today due to the negative connotations in Western Culture, and the influence of Western Culture on the Chinese (it's really out of fashion) long facial hair in olden days were seen as a sign of an elder, thereby demanding respect. Well, and also a large number of superstitions around the cutting of hair or indeed any facial hair. For instance, hair growing out of a mole was actually considered good (ick! I think it had to do with luck, fortune or wealth). Freakishly long fingernails were a sign of wealth (you never had to work a day in your life type thing) and even prominent earlobes were seen as a sign of wealth (attributed to non-laborers, who spent much time pouring over tomes and pulling at their earlobes as they did.)

(6) Loung Kuen - Literally, Dragon Fist.

(7) No Quarter - I wrote this and after several edits, realized that people might not understand what this meant! These days, it simply means "no mercy". I confess, I love etymology, the study of word origins. Used in combat, it is thought to originated from: (a) that the military force will not "quarter", or house, prisoners, thus, they are all killed; (b) no social relation of any sort with the enemy, thus all enemy are to be killed; and (c) that the ransom of prisoners was typically one fourth their regular wage, thus meaning no ransom of prisoners resulting in a massacre.

(8) Esmeralda Especial - Really, 15 a cuppa, sold at a local coffee bistro in Toronto; at 15 a mug-full, it's being sold AT A LOSS. 0o Single estate Panamanian geisha-beans bought by some roasters on auction. Came to light in 2006.

(9) Kaffeeklatsch - Literally, German for Coffee Gossip. Basically used to describe people who love hanging out and drinking coffee, with an emphasis on the coffee.

(10) I had a bit of fun with this, making up names for Shego's various security firm names: Erasmus Securities, for Saint Erasmus, or more popularly, St. Elmo, who has a plasma phenomenon named after him (Yes, St. Elmo's Fire); Sing Fau Secu (Cantonese for Spirit Fire Security; "secu" is Chinglish for "security" and is pronounced "seh-QUEUE"); forgive my French, I was pretty bad at it, but I was going for Absolute or Total Security; Wurm, Turm und Radl, German for "Dragon, Tower and Wheel" the three symbols of the central helper virgin saints, "das heiligen drei Madl" or "the three holy maids", Saints Margaret, Barbara and Catherine; Gandaspati, Malay for a wicked spirit that can take the form of a dragon and kills whatever touches it; Bangfai Payanak, or Naga Fireballs, a natural phenomenon on The Mekong; Kitsunebi Bouei Kaisha, is Foxfire Security Incorporated (thanks to celestialdoggie and Shinji at KPslashhaven! Please send me corrections if I'm wrong!


	7. Chapter 7: Early Warning System

A/N: I went Hollywood time on some of this since I have no clue how long the operation would take. I gave it about an hour to hoist one thing twice. Anyway, just sit back and I hope you enjoy it!

- KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP -

_Interude_

_Ah yes, Barbados and the Islands. My home away from the lair._

_I'd been working especially hard the last few weeks, so I took some vacation time and went to one of my favourite decompression spots. An exclusive all-inclusive resort that caters to villains._

_I was working on my tan when I got a call from the big blue dork, telling me he'd just been nabbed by my favourite red-head. What the fuck was he doing tangling with Princess by himself? Well, he went on and on about how he had been humiliated by some college buddies when they laughed at his attempt to create virtual robotic dates. I had to roll my eyes and physically restrain myself from calling my employer "Lo-o-o-o-o-oser!" Then he was into how he didn't know that my little cheerleader was the daughter of one of those ubergeeks; I told him just -_**how**_- smart that sounded. I mean,... hel-lo! How many people even -_**have**_- the last name "Possible?" Then he went on about how in the end the Bebe's (what the hell?) put him in the crosshairs since he was such a goof._

_I reminded him that if he wanted to win anytime soon, he'd better remember to bring me along to occupy little Miss Perfect. The simple thought of tangling with Pumpkin seemed to get my blood up. The faster I got to go kick Cupcake's toned ass the better. And to do that, Dr. D had to have a viable plan._

_So I cut short my vacation and busted Dr. D out._

- KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP -

_My Dad created Dr. Drakken._

_Weird, hunh? This last case was a clear example of karma. Even if Drakken had damage before he ever ran into daddy, James Possible was the one who pushed him over the edge, gave him that extra oomph to become a full-fledged raving lunatic._

_Now Ron would never have become a raving lunatic, but I could see how my unsupportiveness at him,... ummm... involving himself in my cheerleading world could really hurt him; something one should -_**never**_- do to a friend. So I got him his chance... and they Mad Dog fans loved the Mad Dog!_

_'Course, the Bebes were no fun; but they were actually a bit too smart for their inventor. They realized that even if Drakken had made them, he just was too goofy to actually win. I mean, who would use a rocketpack to try to escape... from -_**inside**_- a building?_

_But the whole time I was wondering: Where's Shego? What's she doing right now? But the shocker was when I realized what I was really thinking:_

_-_**I want to see her.**_-_

- KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP -

**Chapter Seven – Early Warning System**

"Oh God, I think I'm gonna,…" mumbled a voice, followed by running feet and noisy splatters. Four men in black matte long sleeves crowded inside a small office as a fifth knelt over the trash can. The steel grill windows were covered with hastily erected plywood.

"Damn, Pete, I told you not to eat before coming out!" one said moving away from the sick man.

"Aw shit, that really stinks," said another with a British accent.

"Okay, let's go over the job again, so we all know what we're doing." The brown haired man with slicked hair looked down at a clipboard, a flashlight in his left hand. Outside, the howling of the wind was deafening. The door rattled in the jamb, the glass panes waffling in and out. "When the storm stops, we radio in. The sub should have secured the package by then and will be raising it to the surface. Our job is to get whatever it is hooked up to the cargo helo that Big Blue is bringing in. Once that's done, we should be out of here in 45 minutes, plenty of time to spare. We go in the sub and everything should be pie." A sudden lurch caused a few of the men to go sprawling.

"Yeah, if we get through Quixote," muttered the previous man. "Dave, how long did Big Blue say it would take for the eye to hit?"

"Should be any time," Dave shifted his clipboard and checked his watch.

"Who's this Big Blue guy anyway?" Pete moaned, trying to take his mind off the rocking. Dave shrugged.

"Were you on vacation when this who thing started? Just said in the email from the boss that some new guy was coming in. Insists we call him Agent Blue. This whole op has been his baby for the last three weeks, so 'Big Blue'," Dave glanced at a man with a moustache and black hair. "Jan, didn't you leave the dive crew because he was breathing down your necks?"

"Ya, we saw lots of him while we were diving. He was always there, telling us 'Schnell! Schnell!' He even put us in twenty-four hour shifts!" Jan said with a heavy German accent, shaking his head. "I will be truly happy when this is over."

"Good thing he ain't here," said the Brit. "I heard he's a right bastard."

The men huddled together. Several minutes later, the pressure of the office seemed to ease. The hastily erected boards rattled less; the howl of the wind and roar of the rain began to drop slightly, then noticeably.

"Alright, gents," Dave said as he stood. "Time to get to work. Pete, get the door." The man staggered to the door and yanked it open.

"Gawd, can't wait to get outta he –URK!" said Pete as his body shot up to bounce off the ceiling. He dropped amongst his fellows, felling Jan and the Brit. Blinded by the sudden light from the door, Dave and the man left standing reached for their guns only to fall unconscious with the sudden introduction to white and blue booted feet.

Kim landed in a crouch after her perfectly executed double kick. She slid beside the men who struggled with wide eyes to push Pete off their bodies and carefully put them in the same state as the others with measured blows from a cone covered fist.

She stood and quickly glanced at each of the prone men as a precaution. Graphics and text scrolled across the white and blue visor that extended from the collar of her suit, displaying readings of each as she glanced at them, indicating they were non-threats. Touching an iridescent blue circle on her lapel, she spoke.

"Okay, nappy time for the office group, check," she said moving quickly to the door. A light rain fell in a mist outside and the wind continued to drop. Her hair was hanging in wet curls and she wiped at her face.

"Good," replied Wade's voice. "Thermals say that 4 other groups of 5 are exiting their shelters. Shego, you've got to get down faster. Spysats show the sub's coming up with something really big, the size of a bus. And it's coming up fast! Also, a helicopter just appeared, headed your way."

"Chalk ten for me Pumpkin, I just ran into a group at the auxiliary generator," Shego replied in a smug, breathy voice.

_Damn_, Kim huffed as she hurried out. She could already hear shouting and the rhythmic clanging of running feet on the yellow painted metallic grille walkways below.

"Map display," she sub-vocalised.

A transparent three dimensional map of the oil rig swirled into existence before her eyes. The oil platform map was a mass of translucent light blue walls hung on green wireframes. Yellow paths indicated stairs and catwalks. The square shaped platform sat atop four massive red pylon legs, like the middle tier of a layered wedding cake. Stairwells and catwalks zigzagged up from sea level and around the edges of each level. Two large drilling towers loomed over the unique double derricks. On one end was the industrial side, with a staggered double line of exhaust pipes that loomed over pumping plants, chemical tanks and generators. A long tapering metal frame protruded from one corner of the industrial side, a flare arm, topped with a small metal grill platform. Beneath the exhaust pipes, secured against the hurricane were three bright red manned submersibles, their cranes clamped to the rig's outer wall. Across from the industrial side of the square platform, a lower series of housing modules and drill racks were bracketed by two large cranes. The corner diagonally opposite of the flare arm was a large hexagonal helicopter pad. A rectangular extension of the Helipad led to stairwells and catwalks that ended on top of the housing and office modules. (1)

"Overlay signatures," Kim muttered.

A blue and green dot appeared on the map, surrounded by dozens of red dots appeared, most of them moving. The blue dot was on the top level of the industrial side of the platform, moving away from five motionless red dots. The green dot was already several levels down and heading towards the cargo elevator, leaving a large area with a mass of red dots. Kim quickly calculated her path and sprinted down the walkway to stairs leading down.

After the first flight, she vaulted over the rail and ran quietly and swiftly along a massive crude transfer pipe, leaping over small crossing one-inch pipes before vaulting onto another large pipe that passed over a yellow catwalk. From there she could hear fast approaching footfalls below as she crouched low. She listened for a moment then dropped down as the first of the running men arrived below her. Kim delivered a thunderous drop kick to the leading man's centre of gravity. He cannoned back into his fellows, knocking some to the floor of the catwalk with cries of confusion; others painfully ricocheted off the metal railing.

In an instant, she was among them, delivering precise disabling blows to critical points. The ambushed men couldn't raise any resistance. As the last black and grey bodies hit the catwalk, she saw another group down and to the right, on the outside stairs of the rig.

"There, up there! It's Possible!"

The goons headed up a long flight of stairs that led to a 2 meter square platform at the end of her catwalk. Three sides of the platform protruded out from the outside edge of the oil rig. It was surrounded by pipes, and a maintenance ladder welded to a large eight-inch vertical pipe intersected the space down the middle. She could see them pulling frantically at their shoulder holsters. Kim sprinted and jumped, using the right handrail to leap to a one inch pipe, which she grabbed with both hands. She kipped up, then swung herself in a large circle above the catwalk and flew onto a large coolant shaft.

A stilted staccato of rapid footfalls rang out as she rushed along the shaft, obscured by the large crude transfer pipe that ran the length of the catwalk before dipping under the platform. Kim slipped quietly down onto another set of pipes that ran beneath the platform as the men scrambled onto it. They paused, guns drawn.

"Fuck, where is she?" one of them swore as she squeezed through a set of valves to the maintenance ladder below them. _They're panicked_, she smirked. One of them headed back to the stairs they had just arrived from. As his heel struck the first step she slipped beneath. She delivered a tremendous punch against his foot with a cone covered fist and melted back toward the ladder. The man's leg snapped up, spinning him around. His head smacked sharply on the platform edge, and he lay unmoving. As all eyes turned to the fallen man, Kim leapt up through the ladder opening, both hands now covered with white and blue cones. She flattened two men standing next to the ladder with a bone crunching punch and kick combo, sending them sprawling. A fourth man knelt by the first to fall, and the last stood behind the ladder's pipe. She whipped around the side of the pipe opposite the kneeling man and drove a two fisted strike into the standing goon's stomach, sending him flying onto the catwalk. From the corner of her eye, she saw the kneeling man lift his pistol. She spun back as a bullet ricocheted off the ladder's pipe.

A nearby explosion shook the platform and as the man staggered, Kim roared around with a sliding kick that impacted his chest. His body struck the stair's railing and he slumped to the ground. Kim looked out the side of the platform toward a trail of smoke billowing from several levels below.

"Shego, what,-" she said as she thumbed her comlink.

"Just making sure the elevators stay in lockdown, Princess," came Shego's breathless voice. She could just hear the woman's smirk. Kim's face pinked a little. The ex-thief sounded... she could hardly believe she was thinking it, and during a mission,... but,... sexy!

"Kim! Hurry, the helicopter's almost there," Wade's voice broke in. She could hear the _whup-whup_ sound of the rotor blades. "Shego can you see the secured floating pier yet?"

"Yeah, and I can see the sub coming up... Shit! Sub's off about 30 feet. The swells are up and over the pier controls! Wait... they're launching a couple of zodiacs. Something's coming up, must be the cargo..."

Kim checked her map when she heard the crackling of one of the fallen men's radios. She lifted it and adjusted the squelch, then the volume. On her map, a group of red dots centred around something marked as "Cargo Crane" while another five seemed to be headed to a room on the main deck, A submarine appeared at sealevel. Red dots poured out of the sub and into three smaller arrows as a second structure rose from the depths, on which 6 red dots appeared.

"All teams and crews report in! I repeat. All teams and crews report!" bellowed a deep voice from the radio.

"Crane crew here! In position!"

"Engine crew, en route to target!"

"Retrieval Team Three reporting! Moving into position!"

"Retrieval Team Two reporting! In position!"

"Retrieval Team One reporting! Moving into position!"

"Hoist Crew Reporting! Ready to receive!"

"Load crew Report In! Load Crew? Security Detail! Report in, dammit!"

"KIM," Wade shouted in her comlink, "Run for it, they're doing a scan!"

Kim hooked the tiny radio into her belt and turned.

A split second later, the sound of the helicopter suddenly became deafening and the wind whipped about her. She dived over the two unconscious forms lying at the top of the stairs and made a rolling safe fall at the first length of catwalk at the bottom of the first flight. Without breaking momentum, she sprinted down the next flight, taking three steps per stride. A deep buzzing roar emanated from the helicopter that hopped over the dual drill towers to her side of the rig, opposite of the helipad. Behind her the platform disintegrated along with the unconscious men. Large caliber bullets sliced through the metal walkway, following her steps. Red hot sparks flew in all directions. Pipes burst and shrapnel skittered past her churning feet.

As the stream of bullets reached her position, Kim threw herself off the left side of the external catwalk and landed on her side behind a large transfer pipe. The buzzing ceased as she crawled further into the interior of the rig.

"Kim! Kim, are you okay?" Shego's voice sounded strangled as Kim heaved for breath. "That sounded like a fucking 30 millimetre!"

"Shego, I'm... okay." Kim gasped out and kept crawling until the pipes opened into a maintenance hub_. Omigawd, they're killing their own?_ On her map, the red dots she'd just left... just ceased to exist. She dropped to the floor for a moment, trying to catch her breath. On her map, she saw five red dots had reached a room two floors above her. A soft hum filled the air.

"Engine Crew here," crackled the radio. "Main power generator on line."

"Crane crew here. Crane moving into position!"

"Hoist Crew here, we can see the crane. Drop us the guide wire."

"Engine crew, search for the missing teams."

"Roger."

"Dammit, I gotta come up!" Shego's voice jounced, as if she were running. "They're sending some goons to the pylon catwalks on more zodiacs! I count 3 boats... ten goons each!"

"Wade," Kim gasped out, "I'm gonna hit the main generator room, mark it for me?"

"No problem, Kim."

"Please and thank you." She could hear the tapping on his keyboard. Suddenly, the room above her where the five dots had stopped highlighted in an orange yellow.

"Good thinking, Kim," Wade said. Kim slid onto another narrow set of pipes that would bring her to a stairwell.

"Shego!" Kim called out, "watch for the helicopter, it's got the cannon!" Even as she crawled frantically, the large ponderous cargo helicopter, now displayed as a large red arrow, flew lower toward the green dot. "Blow the catwalks! They might still be able to take the maintenance ladders, but it'll take them three times as long!" At that, a distant strobe of green light and an explosion was her reply.

"Wa-a-ay ahead of yah, cupcake! I'm gonna hit the helipad. They gotta hoist their cargo there for the bird to lift it away!"

"Shego watch out!" Kim shrieked as the helicopter dipped lower. The dread buzzing noise of the cannon was faint, but as it began, the green dot on Kim's map disappeared. "Shego? Shego!"

Kim paused, her eyes wide.

_No... no_!

"Hoist Crew here. All lines secured. We are clear of the cargo. Hoist away, I repeat, hoist away!"

Time seemed to lose meaning to Kim.

_Shego,... where are you_? _Are you okay_? _Are you hurt_?

"Kim! Kim!" she heard, as if from far away.

_The green dot had just vanished. _

_It couldn't be..._

"**_KIM!_**" the red-head flinched as Wade shouted his lungs out into his comlink. "The cargo's coming up! You don't have time to hit the generator! Gawd, these guys are crazy," he muttered. "Get to the helipad and stop the helicopter from hooking up!"

She paused, taking in a shaking breath, then thumbed her comlink.

"Got it," was all she said, blinking back tears.

Kim clenched her fists. One way or another, they were going to pay. She retracted her visor. She wouldn't need it to kick ass.

Her orange hair swirled as she flipped onto a horizontal set of pipes and sprinted towards the derrick platform.

- KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP -

Her foot landed on the helipad as men of the crane crew unhooked the hoist cables. Two knelt on a large rusty red frame that prevented the cargo from falling off the excavation platform. Three were heaving aside the ballast as the two cut them loose. The cargo was a large cylindrical shape that seemed familiar to Kim, even with the crust and slime coating. The helicopter, with the nose of the cannon protruding from the right side, was maneuvering ponderously into position. Thick cables were being lowered. She felt her rage bubbling over and exploded into action.

Kim punched her left fist at the cargo and her wrist grapple blasted past startled men, snagging the metal frame holding the cargo to a metal platform. She retracted, flying by Senior's men and dished out three vicious kicks as she whipped past, putting three to the ground. The side door of the cargo helicopter opened, revealing a large shadow. As she neared the strange cylindrical mass, she retracted her grapple and flipped on top of the frame, throwing a small black cylinder up at the hovering aircraft. As it flew, a bright red glow emanated from one end and sliced through the turret of the cannon, behind the centre brace. The glowing cylinder and the melted muzzle of the cannon fell into the ocean even as a shadow jumped from helicopter.

Kim whipped around, dashing across the top of the cylinder to the remaining members of the crane crew who frantically fastened more hoist cabling. The first had no chance as her foot blade smacked him to the helipad below, but the second was carrying a heavy wrench. He deflected her first attack, but a snap kick caught him between the legs with an audible crunch and he flew off the cargo with a gasp.

She turned at a heavy clang behind her, but as she did, a large blue fist caught her in the stomach and lifted her off the frame. She fell to the ground a good three metres from the cylinder, and coughed in pain. She couldn't breath. She grimaced and staggered to her feet. She choked, her body craving air. Her lungs burned! Suddenly rough hands seized her and bore her to the ground.

_No... no... no NO!_

A group of thirty men in black and grey uniform swarmed onto the helipad, all of them breathing heavily from their mad rush from the bottom of the rig. Five had dogpiled onto the hero, then pinned her on the green helipad deck as the rest of the men went to check on their comrades or to finish cutting away the ballast. Kim turned her sea green eyes to see who had taken her down; to her surprise, it looked like one of Dr. Drakken's hulking synthodrones, but in blue rather than red, and with silver lenses.

"Hold her while we get hooked up," the blue figure commanded in a rasping, guttural voice. Ten men leapt to obey, scrambling on top of the excavation frame and began fastening a large device with massive socket wrenches to the frame.

Two men sat on Kim's legs, holding them apart while one sat on her back and two others held her arms and shoulders. Five other men stood guard. The radio dug into her hip. Her muscles stood out as she strained against their weight. Tears of pain and frustration leaked out of her eyes. She bit her lip to keep from snarling.

"Aw look, the little girlie's crying," one of the men on guard said. Another strolled up and grabbed her hair, roughly pulling her head back and licked her cheek.

"We'll give ya something to really cry about when we get back in the sub, missy!" He smacked her head against the hard helipad surface as the nearby men laughed. Kim's saw stars and felt blood trickle down between her eyes as she glared up.

"Finally, we're gonna get some of that tail!" Another said, hi-fiving the man who had injured her.

"She's gonna be one sweet ride."

"And tight."

"Not after I'm done!"

The man who'd grabbed her turned and grinned at her glaring eyes.

"Hah, she sure has some spirit," he spat at her, but his spittle hit the goon holding her right arm_. The wind's really picked up_, Kim realized.

"Hey, watch it," he yelled, wiping at the spit with one hand just as a barrage of green bolts pounded the men around them.

"What...?"

Suddenly, the weight holding her down disappeared, sharp blows punctuated by green flashes. Cries of pain accompanied their departures over the ledge of the helipad, to land with sickening thuds on the maintenance walkway surrounding the extension.

Kim looked up to find a black haired woman holding the goon who had spit at her by the throat, blood trickling from her claws biting into his neck as he squirmed in fear. His feet scrabbled against the helipad as she held him aloft. The right side of her signature black and green quartered catsuit was ripped and bloody, her right sleeve nearly torn off. Kim couldn't see her face, but she heard her soft hissing words.

"No touché my Kimmie, you fuck."

A plasma powered punch sent the man flying, smacking with a satisfying crunch into the side of the cylinder.

"Shego...?" Kim whispered as time and space seemed to stretch and yet collapsed into vivid focus as the green-tinted woman turned her head slightly. Kim thought she could see a ghost of a smirk on her lips.

Above them, the sky grew darker. The rain began to fall again and the wind started to whistle.

Suddenly, the woman flipped out of Kim's sight and Kim rolled forward as time began to flow once more. Several grey and black men charged without drawing their sidearms, afraid of hitting their colleagues in such close quarters. As Kim chopped down two assailants, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the cargo ponderously lifting away with the large blue suited man still atop, grasping a rope ladder.

"Shego! The helicopter!" Kim called out.

"Already on it, Pumpkin," was the reply as two green plasma balls hurled upwards. They grew smaller as they flew and wavered, narrowly missing the taut cables. "Dammit! My aim's all fucked up!"

Kim settled into a stance as a group of five men attempted to dogpile her a second time, two from the front, and one to each side and back. She dropped into a leg-sweep, causing the leading man before her to stumble. She followed up with a forward cartwheel as her back turned to him, her left heel driving into the man's jaw. He fell hard against the goon behind him, both falling to the ground. As Kim landed, facing the opposite direction, she dropped and swept the legs from under the goon to her right. As he bounced hard on the green surface, Kim flipped to a handstand, booth feet simultaneously snapping straight under the chin of the man who had originally charged her back. As her body snapped upright, the hero held her right leg straight up and kicked out with her left, her left hand planted on the green tarmac, her right hand raised for balance. Her foot drove into the left goon's stomach causing him to fly several feet away. Lighting back on the ground, she jumped up and kicked in two directions as two more goons ran up to her from opposite sides, her feet connecting with solid smacks against their foreheads. The man knocked to the ground by the first scrambled to his feet.

"Kimmie!" Shego called as her booted foot kicked the man toward her. Kim looked up and noted a couple of shadows rushing Shego as she dealt devastating claw strikes into the men before her.

Kim slid forward and grabbed the wrist of the stumbling man. The red-head pivoted, pulling his momentum along. Using her other hand to help propel him she heaved him hard in Shego's direction adding a kick of her own as the super-powered woman dropped a flawless leg hammer. The man sailed over the brunette, striking two men who were trying to jump the catsuited woman from behind.

The blue figure waved at the cargo helicopter. A shadow appeared at the door and threw down an assault rifle.

"These guys are like roaches!" Kim muttered as three more charged in.

She twisted and kicked her right foot in a high sizzling arc. As her hips turned, she brought her left leg up. Her body flew in the air. She tilted her rotating body from horizontal to vertical and as her left knee lined up with the second man, her foot whipped over. A green bolt sizzled beneath her torso. The two goons flew back and away. As the third reach her, Kim landed on both feet and fell into a split, her legs extending front and back, her fist burying itself into the man's groin. He fell over with a groan and passed out. She heard a clatter and turned to see a goon kneeling on the ground clutching a plasma blackened hand. At his feet lay his pistol.(3)

She stood up, hands at the ready in a wide stance. The remaining men were scrambling away from the helipad, stumbling down the stairways or jumping off the roof of the office modules. She glanced about, the baker's dozen she'd just put down were motionless. Another pile of black and grey bodies clustered around Shego.

"-**_Run!_**-" Kim heard Shego shout.

Kim immediately sprinted for the rig side edge of the helipad as the rattle of machinegun fire burst behind her. She dived off the lip of the helipad; she could hear the helicopter rotors spinning faster. The round faced girl dashed to the side and made a quick glance through the safety net that ran along the edge of the helipad. The massive machine continued to lift into the air. She noticed a purple and white suited man holding an assault rifle in the door of the massive helicopter, the same colours on the helmet of the co-pilot.

"WEE goons…?" Kim muttered, then ducked as the man spotted her and opened fire with his rifle. Bullets tore into the lip of the tarmac above her head. She winced at the sound of bullets snapping by and crawled a few meters before lifting her head up and noticed Shego. The ex-thief waved at her from her position. The super-powered woman motion at herself and mimicked the firing of a gun, then pointed at Kim and moved her palm in a zigzag. Kim nodded. Shego held up three fingers, paused, then lowered each in turn. Kim shifted a few more meters away from the countdown.

As the last finger dropped, Kim exploded onto the tarmac extension, tearing across the hardened green surface in a curving path. Behind her, a green glow began to grow, brighter and brighter. The strange man in blue was climbing the rope ladder, an assault rifle strapped to his back. He'd almost reached the helicopter door where the WEE goon stood. The goon opened fire on Kim, his bullets raking the ground behind her.

Suddenly a bright green light struck the purple and white jumpsuit in the chest, narrowly missing the blue figure's head and shoulder. The stricken man fell back inside the helicopter as a blue figure heaved himself into the helicopter and pulled out a remote with a red switch. He thumbed the safety up and pressed the red button beneath.

Kim's left hand punched forward as a massive rumbling explosion shook the entire platform, spoiling her aim. The jet powered grapple shot up at the main rotor blades, where it was knocked away with a clang. The blue man sat with his legs over the edge of the door, taking the assault rifle from his shoulder. Kim was forced over the seaside lip and onto the maintenance walkway of the helipad by another burst of gunfire, all the while retracting her grapple line.

The entire oil rig platform form began to tilt as the helicopter flew up, rising faster and faster.

Kim jumped back onto the helipad.

"Wade, can you track the 'copter?" The device bolted on the cargo frame began to emit swirling lights. As the massive helicopter rose, the machine and its load suddenly faded from sight.

"I…. –race… pear" came a stilted reply that was distorted and garbled.

"Wade?" Kim shouted, the rain now coming down in torrents.

Shego skidded to a stop beside Kim.

"C'mon Princess!" She grabbed Kim's hand and dragged her towards the stairs to the office modules. The platform continued to tilt. Twenty foot swells lapped at the structure.

They scrambled onto the top deck. The rainwater poured along the deck in an imitation of shallow rapids, three inches deep. They sprinted past the drill racks. As the two women ran past, a whole rack collapsed with sharp pings, the bolts shearing from strain. Kim ducked as a tube whizzed by her head. The wind began to howl and the rain began to whip their straining bodies like stinging needles.

Both Kim and Shego fell more than once as they raced along the waterlogged deck. They fought their way past an additional residential module that groaned as the platform continued to tilt. A set of oil drums snapped their cables and careened past them, crashing into the groaning module, which groaned again. They leaned into the wind and the angle of the floor and drove their legs hard. Behind them resounded a sharp crack and the entire module slid away with a screech of grinding metal, coming to a crashing halt as it collided into the office sections.

They made it to the derricks and paused, putting their backs against the drill tower girders. They paused there to catch their breath. Shego put her mouth up to Kim's ear.

"Shelter! We've got to ride out the storm!" she shouted in her ear to be heard over the hurricane's roar.

Kim scanned the map quickly. The floor had tilted to a thirty degree angle. The women were hard pressed to keep their footing. There was definitely something wrong with the platform, and who knew what else could occur.

"This way!" She pulled at Shego's shoulder, eliciting a gasp. Kim looked at the woman's torn side, seeing some large cuts that were bleeding green. She looked at Shego and saw the determined glint in the woman's eyes. Kim nodded and led the way.

The wind screamed past them. The wind driven rain was worse, bruising their skin, blasting into them like cold, blinding darts. They carefully descended the main stairwell to the bottom level. Their trembling hands clung to pipes, frames, rails, whatever would help them keep their feet. They staggered past the generators, where Kim paused for a moment to shut down the one left running by Señor Senior Sr.'s men. Kim glanced down the slope of the floor and thought she saw water.

By the time they reached their destination, their muscles spasmed with fatigue. Three submersibles hung from small cranes that were clamped to the side of the rig's bottom level.

Shego's eyes were wide as Kim seized the top hatch wheel of one of the submersibles. Kim strained, but the wheel refused to budge. Shego shook her head as she slid up behind the red-head. She placed her clawed hands along Kim's. The wheel turned easily with her added strength and in moments, they were inside.

The sub was a three man affair and was cramped at best. They could still hear the muffled roar of the wind and the crackle and snap of lighting, the boom of thunder. Kim helped Shego sit down. The green tinted woman gasped, hunching a bit.

"Strip!" Kim said. Shego looked up at her with a raise eyebrow and Kim's face turned red but held the woman's gaze. "We're going to be here for hours and I need to look at your side." Shego looked at the red-head for a moment, then nodded.

"Well, then gimme a hand, Pumpkin," she gasped out, reaching with her left to her neck. She fumbled with the hook and together, they remove the left side, and then carefully peeled away the shredded right. Dark grayish-green bruises surrounded large green rips in her skin that bled dark green. Shego was beginning to shake. _Not a good sign_. "St-stop th-th-the bl-bleed-ng," the woman stuttered out. Kim franticly looked around the sub, looking for a first aid kit. She tore open a locker chest and dug a small red box out from under a thick thermal blanket. Inside was only the most basic of bandages, gauze and antiseptic. No needle and thread. Kim came to a swift decision.

She stood, hunched in the small space and quickly stripped off her form fitting battlesuit. Shego looked on appreciatively, noticing that Kim didn't have any undergarments, but her eyes narrowed as Kim caught her looking.

"S-so not-t int'rest-ted, K-kimm-mie," she forced out. Kim flushed again, her whole body turning pink before the ex-villainess's eyes. "Ain't th-the w-way t 'get 'n m'pants."

"My battlesuit can inject pain killers and the nanites are programmed to hold wounds closed," Kim said brusquely as she tugged the remained of Shego's catsuit off. "It'll keep you warm, too." She then slid her white and blue mission wear onto the woman, trying to ignore the soft smoothness of the green tinted skin. Shego looked on as Kim worked, noticing a number of large scars on the woman's body. Kim's blush deepened as she realized that Shego was watching her. She shifted a bit, as if to hide some of the worse scarring.

"Recalibrate," Kim whispered into Shego's neck as she closed the last clasp. The blue stripes hummed and sparkled for a moment, and the suit shifted loosening around the chest and hips, tightening around the upper arms and thighs. She then quickly wrapped the blanket over her naked body and sat facing the injured woman.

"G-gah,… I c'n b-breath now," Shego gasped.

After few minutes, Shego stopped shaking. "Wow, hey I feel a lot better!"

"G-good." It was Kim who trembled now, even under the blanket. Shego looked at the girl, then sighed.

"C'mere," she said as she rolled her eyes.

"Huh?" Kim was surprised by the offer.

"-_**Not**_- gonna say it again, Princess," Shego snorted in annoyance. Kim didn't need the brunette to repeat herself. She scooted over to Shego's side, clumsily wrapping the both of them under the blanket. The woman sighed again and rearranged the covering, then wrapped her arms around the shivering red-head. They leaned back against the side of the sub. In a few minutes, Kim was warm. She suddenly realised that Shego was glowing slightly.

"Thanks," Kim said.

"It's what I do," Shego shrugged. "All nice and toasty now?" Kim nodded. They were quiet for a few moments.

"Shego,…" Kim began.

"Yeah?"

"How did you get away from the helicopter? Your signal disappeared from the map. I thought,…" Kim bit her bottom lip, remembering the echoes of panic, fear and dismay that had coursed through her.

"That I'd been turned into sharkbait?"

Kim could only nod. Shego shifted carefully for a moment.

"I blew a hole in the pylon and drove through. That's how I got the nice patchwork on my right." Shego gave a rueful smile. "Hasty metal holes don't have very safe edges. I had to melt a couple of holds and wait for the Mi-26 to buzz off. Didn't matter 'cause it had turned the walkway into swiss cheese, so I had to freeclimb in plasma made handholds for about forty feet before I busted out at another set of the maintenance stairs."

"The pylon shielded your signal? Hmmm… that was some fight, though," Kim mused.

"Yeah. By the way, I won."

"Won? Won what?"

"The bet," Shego said with a smirk.

"What!?"

"I took down more goons than you."

"Did not!"

"Un-hunh, keep telling yourself that."

"-_**I**_- beat –_**you**_-."

"Oh? And just how many did you get?"

"I got…" Kim did a quick count. "Thirty-two."

"Hunh? No way!"

"Ye-hah! I ambushed fifteen on the decks and took down seventeen on the helipad."

Shego was silent.

"Why, how many did you get?" Shego gave her a dry look before replying.

"Thirty-two. Ten in the auxiliary generator room, twenty on the helipad."

"Ten, twenty…. That's not thirty-two!" Kim goosed Shego on the side, who shuddered. "Oh!... Sorry…" Kim said as she realized what she had done to the injured woman.

"Alright, alright! Little Miss Perfect!" Shego groused.

"And remember -_**what**_- we bet?" Kim grinned as she teased. Shego turned her head.

"Bet? What bet? I don't remem,-" Shego stopped suddenly as Kim's eyes turned wide and her lower lip protruded. Being nose to nose with the naked hero didn't help.

"I - what the fuck is w-wrong with your face?" Shego stuttered. Kim's lower lip trembled. Shego turned her head, but didn't release the pouting girl.

"Nope, no bet. I -," Even without seeing Kim's face the dark haired woman could feel the intensity increase by several factors.

"Would you…? Gawd, you'd think…" Kims pout went into overdrive.

"I – aw fuck. Yeah, Possible, you won our little bet. Just stop that – whatever it is!"

Kim grinned. _Yes_!

"When did you want your winnings," Shego choked out.

"After Wade gets us off this rig, I'll let you know."

"Great. And how long will that be you think?"

"Eight hours minimum?" Kim shrugged. Shego seemed to think about it. Kim's body was pressed tight against her. _Eight hours of sweet, sweet torture_, Kim grinned to herself as she noticed a slight darkening in Shego's skin.

"So, what the hell was that thing you did with your face?" Shego seemed interested in attempting to get control of the conversation.

"Just a secret weapon called "The Puppy Dog Pout," Kim shrugged, sounding nonchalant. "It's a Possible-woman speciality."

"My eyes have been opened! You -_**can**_- kill with cute."

Kim just smiled in response.

"Well, I better get some shut eye. Two fights in one day and a hurricane can tucker a girl out," Shego sighed.

"Yeah, I'm bushed too," Kim conceded. She wrapped her arms more tightly around the green skinned woman and nuzzled her face into the woman's neck. She could see the green tinted neck take on a dark green flush. She felt Shego swallow.

"Uh… yeah…" Shego said a little breathlessly. "Well, sleep tight Princess." And with that the woman was silent.

Kim smiled to herself and settled in. Within minutes both were asleep, in each other's arms.

Which was how the Global Justice retrieval team discovered them.

- KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP -

(1) I based the Oil Rig structure on the one called Thunder Horse in the Gulf of Mexico. It's one of the biggest Tension Leg Platforms in the Gulf. It's got three different cranes. It's perfect, because, as I had planned in the story, one of the Pylons collapsed, causing Kim and Shego to be unable to go after the helicopter, even as it hoists away the "cargo". Thunder Horse lost a pylon to Hurricane Dennis, a category 5 storm causing it to list 20-30 feet to one side.

(2) The helicopter I was originally thinking of using was the Mi-10 Sky Crane, but I opted for a modified Mi-26TM because I just didn't want to make Kim take note of the Mi-10's strange grasshopper like fuselage, or the tandem rotor of a MH-47 Chinook. I wanted something a little more maneuverable than the Mil V12. Modified because of the side mounted hydraulic frame modified GAU-8 Tank killing 30mm gatling, not to mention the cloaking device.

(3)Here Kim uses a bunch of different styles. I decided that even if she knows CQC and Krav Maga, that won't help her with large scale slugfests (I'm probably wrong but meh), so I stuck to more regular martial arts. Here's the list of moves. Please let me know if the descriptions are confusing!

s-dobrado (Capoeira) -- aù batido variant (Capoeira) -- Two Direction Kick (Tae Kwon Do) -- simple arm lock and throw (Tai Chi) -- butterfly illusion kick (Shaolin Kung Fu tricking variant) -- splits


	8. Chapter 8: The Waiting Game

_Interlude_

_Huh. So the latest news is Gemini's been nabbed by Princess , along with GJ support. That girl's moving up in the world._

_Thanks for taking down the competition, Princess._

- KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP -

_Doctor Director is so great!_

_She's been my idol the last few years, since they had an article in Secure Channel, the periodical for Security and Law Enforcement. The funny thing was that they published the article as if it were an Asian gravure magazine, with pervy stats like the three measurements, likes and dislikes, her age and sign (admittedly made up). Her credentials were impressive: doctorates in Criminology and Law Enforcement, Strategy and Tactics, and English. Her street cred is even better! She's been known to take down gangs of goons all by herself. I've even heard that she's a master level Go player ( I had to Google that one!) So when the chute opened up under Ron and me, I was thrilled to finally meet the woman I wanted to be!_

_So it was kind of funny to hear her kibitzing with her brother, Sheldon, also feared as Gemini; made her real, somehow. They bickered like me and my brothers do, about small, strange things. Come to think of it, they're more alike than they're likely to admit: twins, but not identical; an eyepatch, but not the same eye; heads of international agencies, but on opposite sides of the law. Even their under-foot chutes both send people to places, although Gemini's destinations are much more unpleasant._

_I wonder if my brothers, with their chronic rule breaking, would end up like Sheldon. But then I realized something else._

_I might want to -_**be-**_ Doctor Director, but I _**-want-**_ someone else... dangerous and beautiful, snarky and sensitive,... omigawd, I think I better stop writing now... I'll put this entry in a safer place than my diary..._

- KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP -

**Chapter Eight: The Waiting Game**

Doctor Bethany "Betty" Elisabet Director leaned back with a sigh in her nondescript gray office chair in her generic gray office. She had to remind herself about why she had kept this chair after all these years. It was not ergonomic. It had the bare minimum of features, such as a seat height lever and non-adjustable armrests. It was distinctly uncomfortable. The foam padding would become unbearably hot after a period of time. Yet she sat in this chair, on some days for hours on end, pouring over reports, interviewing visitors, officials, contractors or job applicants, or interrogating the same. She even referred to it sometimes, as "The Chair", like someone would when speaking about a method of execution. She had even heard it bandied about in the Global Justice lunch room that she was chained to "The Chair," but always in a sympathetic, incredulous or admiring tone.

Her desk was equally spartan and utilitarian as the rest of her office. A massive large oak plinth, it was absent of any gilding, inlay or carving. Arrayed neatly along the perimeter were trays labelled "busy", "urgent", "important", "current" and "work". On the right side of her desk between "current" and "work" sat an exotic dark leaf plant that slightly hung over the edge of the desk with large red, pink and orange flowers. That was her "safe zone" plant. To her left nestled between "busy" and "urgent" was the sleek brushed nickel phone and the cradle for her handheld.

Her office was large; an appropriate size for the director of an international crime fighting organization. It housed an inset forty-inch touchscreen computer monitor, which could be raised at the push of a button. The desk faced a single oak door that was flanked by two abstract paintings. To her left was a ceiling to floor, wall to wall one-way window that overlooked an inner courtyard of the Global Justice compound. Centred to the right wall was an oddly shaped wooden table that was flanked by two plain wooden chairs. Set behind the table and against the wall was a divan.

The one spotlight of comfort was a vine patterned, burgundy, chaise longue with a dark stained mahogany frame with elaborate gold chasing. The sumptuous partial back double sloped the length of the seat; gilded and tasselled, it was a rococo antique with vines and grapes carved into the wooden frame. Betty lovingly dubbed "The Couch". She had purchased it in lieu of an end-of-year bonus; given the fact that she spent more nights in the office than at home, and slept there over 200 days in the year, she felt completely justified in her acquisition.

In the corner between The Couch and The Chair sat a small pantry with several drawers, upon which sat an electronic hot water dispenser, a tin of Golden Jubilee whole leaf tea, a tin of Red Mountain Monkey Harvested tea, and a matching set of ceramic pot and two cups.

In the corner between The Couch and the door squatted a large rectangular slab on a large metal floor sunken cabinet. The slab had the distinct look; a twelve inch metallic border surrounded an opaque center that resembled frosted glass. Protruding down from the ceiling above was a large cylindrical fixture with a twelve inch rim. The bottom of the fixture was a slightly concave dome of the same frosted material of the slab. This was Global Justice's infamous "War Chest", designed by the best scientific minds in the world.

Betty leaned forward, placed her elbows on her desk and rubbed her temples in slow motions, her eyes closed. Her short brown hair fell in a curtain, hiding her black eye-patch.

Today, a single thick file lay before her. It was labelled "Team Possible - Gulf of Mexico Oil Rig Mission". Satellite photos, DVD media and sheaves of paper were organized across her desk.

Betty pressed a blue tinted button along the frame of the touchscreen; the edges glowed the same bluish colour for a moment before the entire screen tilted up.

"Display waiting room three."

A faint hum filled the air for a moment then faded away as the screen flickered to life. On it was a utilitarian but comfortable room in full colour. Kim Possible, in grey GJ technician overalls, paced the length of the room, clearly agitated. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her shoulders squared, her head tilted toward the floor. Betty's face remained impassive as she noted another person in the room. A chair had been moved close to the overhead camera. A woman with long dark hair was lounging in it, a feat in itself. Facing away from the camera, also dressed in GJ technician overalls, with one leg crossed... and filing her nails? Betty's lips quirked in a wry smile. Her eyes turned back to the pacing Possible.

Betty resisted the impulse to sigh. She knew Kim would be nervous and upset. Debriefings with perfectionists with bipolar philosophies were always a mix of coddling and comforting, and Kim was no exception. Betty assumed that Kim was somewhat aware of that part of her character. She had extracted details to what Ron Stoppable had called Kim's "kimness" (others had less flattering names for it) before he had disappeared in Japan; on one occasion, perfectionism and disassociation had gotten the girl kicked off a children's soccer team for being a dictatorial coach. But she knew it could be overcome; she herself was an example of that.

A small tan coloured leather bound book, no larger than her hand, lay directly before her. To the casual observer, it seemed to be a journal filled with pages of odd flowing doodles of flowers. To Betty, it was every note that she would need to complete all her tasks made out in a secret language all her own.

She had just finished reading the reports submitted by Wade, the Team Possible liaison to Global Justice. Betty privately referred to the boy genius, now an emancipated fifteen year old with five Doctorates and counting, as the Team Possible handler. In addition, she had the reports made by investigative dive teams.

She used one long finger to depress a small grey button beside the elevated screen. A soft chime responded.

"Yes, Director?" came a soft woman's voice.

"Please have the occupants of Waiting Room Three ushered to my office."

"Right away, sir."

Betty leaned back in The Chair, organizing her thoughts, periodically adding new foliage or extending a new vine in her notebook. A soft chime interrupted her thoughts. She pressed the blue button; as the screen slid back into it's resting position, she pressed the grey button again.

"Yes, Matilde?"

"Kim Possible and partner are here to see you, sir." In the background she could hear a low murmer of voices.

"Please send them in." Betty began rearranging files and satellite captures of the operation. A deep chime sounded and the heavy oak door opened.

Kim Possible entered the room with a flush on her face. She was fidgety and anxious. Betty knew the girl hated to be debriefed after what she considered a failure of a mission. She knew it made Kim feel like a child returning to the parent to report that they had just broken their new toy.

"Hi, Doctor Director," Kim said with a nervous grin. Her hands twitched, and the girl - _woman_, Betty reminded herself, gripped them together in an effort to stop. Shego sauntered in behind the woman with composure, her eyes seemingly to roam at random, a hand on a cocked hip and a smirk on her black and green lips.

"Please sit," Betty replied without looking up from the files in her hands. "I will be with you shortly."

Kim immediately went to pick up the chairs by The Couch and lugged them over. Shego simply continued to look around. She wandered over to the War Chest, but didn't touch.

Now the redheaded girl – _woman_, Betty reminded herself, fidgeted slightly as she sat and waited. Shego eventually meandered back over to the second chair and sat down, assuming her normal posture: lounging back with one leg over the other's knee.

Betty drew a final flower and closed her notebook. She was surprised that Shego had not come around to her side of the desk to peer over her shoulder at her notebook. She looked up and clasped her hands together before her.

"So Kim, please tell me about the mission."

"Well, I got the call from Wade that you'd asked for our help, since GJ was busy. I brought Shego along because I knew it was going to be a tough mish, so I asked Shego, and she said yes." Shego snickered and Kim flushed, her eyes firmly on Betty's plant. Shego simply watched the red-faced girl with amusement. Betty simply nodded for Kim to continue.

"Anyway," Kim continued, "we got a ride to the oil rig. Wade sent us the stuff we needed; we decided to use a two pronged attack to keep Senor Senior Senior's men confused and did a HALO jump into the eye. That was totally spankin', like diving into a whirlpool of clouds!"

Kim glanced at Shego for a moment, wanting to know if she had anything to add. Shego simply cocked an amused eyebrow and Kim flushed again, then went back to staring at the plant.

"I went after the guys in the decks and Shego went after the submarine. We took out a bunch of the men that had secreted themselves on the rig before the hurricane hit, but they still managed to bring up whatever it was they wanted. They had guns, and they weren't exactly shy with them. Shego had to get away from the helicopter so she disappeared for a bit while I hit the helipad. They were transferring what they brought up out of the water and were hooking it up to this huge cargo helicopter. While I was taking out the goons there, this big guy in a blue jumpsuit knocked me down when a bunch of reinforcements showed up. Luckily, Shego did too, and while the others were busy, she got me free and then we took down the rest of the goons. Only they'd finished attaching that big thing to the helicopter, and started hoisting it away. A guy in the helicopter had this big machine gun kept us at a distance until Shego nailed him with her plasma. That blue guy, he had an assault rifle too, got into the helicopter and set off some sort of explosive. The rig started to tilt, and the helicopter disappeared right in front of our eyes, like it had some sort of cloaking device, so we just hoofed it to the safest place and waited out the storm as it came back in."

Betty really wanted to sigh now. Kim was saying a lot but also saying nothing. There weren't enough details, even in the report.

"How many men were there?"

Kim's eyes flicked back and forth as she counted then shook her head. "At least eighty. But they had that sub and the helicopter too. Wade sent you his files right? I don't think I could add much more to it..." She sighed and her eyes looked down.

"What kind of guns did they have?"

Kim closed her eyes for a moment then opened them and shrugged. "I don't know, hand guns, little black automatics..."

"Standard Glock 20Cs." Kim and Betty turned to look at the green woman who'd spoken. "What? They had vents."

"And the automatic rifles?"

"G36s. Nasty buggers."

"The helicopter?"

"Modified Mi-10. Had a fucking vulcan installed, like a GAU-8. The firing sound was too deep to be anything smaller. That's just nuts, they must have some sort of dampening cage or field. No markings, but the tail looked like a rebuild; the paint was a different colour, the rivets stuck out more than the others."

Kim's face lost a bit of its colour as she stared at the girl with the glow as she delivered all this information. Betty knew why Shego had evaded capture; it was attention to detail, no matter what the circumstance.

"Ah, so while you were evading thirty calibre depleted uranium shot, Kim was making an assault on the helipad?"

"Yeah, and it was no sweat ditching the bird." Shego glanced at Kim; the redhead's face flushed. Betty didn't need to see to know Shego had just winked.

Betty tapped her lips with a finger. "Describe this cargo to me."

Shego waved at Kim, as if she was done with answering questions.

"Uh, well, it had some coral on it, but not much, so whatever it was, it hadn't been underwater for long. They had it on a metal platform and frame. It was a big black cylindrical thing. It looked like it was made of metal, with some rectangular grooves..." Kim's face scrunched a bit in concentration. "Looked like maybe crystal inside? When I first saw it, I thought, hey, that looks familiar. No clue where I saw it though."

"We did see it, Pumpkin, you, Doctor D, buffoon, and me. 'Cept the last time was about twelve hundred miles above ground."

"Huh? The last time we were all together like that was.. wait... yeah! The Lowardian ship! It was the engine core. Wow, Shego, that's good..."

To Betty's surprise, the lounging woman coughed and turned a darker shade of green.

"Hmm," Betty mused aloud. "What would Senior's men want with that technology though? Unless he's outsourced his science arm, I'm fairly confident he doesn't have anyone in-house that could make heads or tails of the thing. He always interviews new hires personally."

"Well, that's because it wasn't Senior's men taking the core away," Kim interjected. "The guys inside the helicopter work for Gemini. They made Swiss cheese out of some of Senior's goons with that... GAU-8? I nearly got blown to bits too." Betty's face, already impassive, froze. Even Shego, who had begun to take a file out of a pocket in her overalls, paused and looked at Kim. Betty's eye looked at Shego, who simply leaned back and began to file.

"Sorry Bets," Shego shrugged nonchalantly, "can't confirm. I may have hit the lead spraying goon, but I didn't have a good angle, with the bird turning away and all."

"No, the helicopter was tracking me," the red head nodded. " I got a good look at the pilot through the windshield and the guy with the gun. Definitely Worldwide Evil Empire uniforms." Kim paused. "I don't think Senior's men knew that."

"A moment, please," Betty said as her mind kicked into high-gear. For several minutes, Betty was silent, her single eye darting back and forth as her mind sifted past tidbits of information.

"This is definitely going to be trouble, with a capital tee," Betty finally said. "By the way Miss Possible, I understand the retrieval team needed to provide your current attire?"

"I,- that is, - uh..." Kim flushed a bright pink. The hero unconsciously smoothed out some creases on her borrowed coveralls. Shego's eyes watched the hero for a moment, then turned a glare toward Betty.

"Yeah, Kimmie helped me out, lent me her battlesuit, and I got blood on it. Dodging thirty calibre bullets being shelled out at ten thousand rounds a minute, a girl doesn't have the luxury of making safe edges around plasma-blasted holes." Shego zipped open her coveralls, completely exposing the right side of her torso. Nasty cross-hatching scars, already healed to jagged and puckered lines, crisscrossed under her right arm just above the ribcage.

Kim's eyes bulged and her blush deepened while Betty nearly had to excuse herself from laughing out loud. However, years of practise simply had her cough once into a loose fist.

"I see. Well, that will be all, ladies. Thank you for being so patient."

"Oh, no big!" Kim nearly leaped to her feet. Shego simply slid her coveralls back on, zipped up the front and pocketed the file before standing. As they turned toward the door, Betty fired a personal salvo.

"One more thing, Miss Possible." Kim turned back to her. "I needn't comment on your choice of partners, as you are a freelancer," Kim flushed at the comment, "but please take more precautions. You are moving into some uncharted territory here, with Senior arming his men and assault rifles being used by WEE. You understand our offer still stands?"

"Yes ma'am. I'll think about it."

"I'm sure you're tired. Please feel free to use any facilities you may require. A GJ pilot is standing by to take you back to Middleton. Oh, and you know where you can return the uniforms." Kim's face turned a beet red, but nodded. Shego's amused smirk merely intensified.

"Y-yes, ma'am," Kim muttered as she literally dragged Shego out the door.

"Later, Bets!" Shego called out through the closing door.

_Trust Kim Possible to take a date on a mission_, Betty thought to herself while shaking her head. It seemed the tabs she'd been keeping on the hero had turned out to be accurate.

Betty smiled but the memory of the red-head's words, however, turned the smile to a frown. Something big was afoot. After a moment of consulting her notebook, Betty pressed her intercom button again.

"Matilde?"

"Yes, sir?"

"If Agent Du is still here, please tell him to bring file number PLS-HCO-17532 to my office."

"Agent Du, PLS-HCO-17532 to your office. I will check... yes, he has not left the office yet. I will send for him."

"Thank you."

Betty sat back, thinking, then sat up, her frown still firmly in place, and pulled a file from her "Work" tray. It was labelled "Team Possible – Fiske Auditorium Theft Report." Her frown deepened as she re-read the report for the fifth time.

Dementor's men had attempted to steal an energy device, some sort of energy manipulator, from Doctor Lipsky at the Fiske Auditorium, supposedly on the orders of Doctor Dietrich "Dicky" Demenz, a.k.a. Professor Dementor. The two had a history of extreme oneupmanship, yet it was impossible. Professor Dementor was a guest at the Omega Facility.

The Global Justice Omega facility was completely isolated, without any externally accessible power or communication lines, other than a single land line that simply ran to a single analog telephone in the Warden's office. It was also hardened against most forms of detection. Heat and exhaust were dispersed from amongst the local fauna. An examination and trace of the email sent to the goons had turned up a confusing forest of false leads. That also ruled out Senior's men's claims of the same, that an email from the incarcerated trillionaire had set the stage for such a complex and costly operation; however, Gemini was still at large and the fact that a WEE agent had led Senior's men was not lost on Betty.

Yet it was not her brother's modus operandi to use colour coded agents; his obsession with the Greek alphabet was well known.

Betty tapped her full lips for a moment, lost in thought, when a soft chime sounded.

"Yes, Matilde?" Betty spoke, her eyes closed.

"Agent Du is here," came a soft woman's voice.

"Please, send him in. And you may go for the day."

"Yes, sir. Have a good night."

Betty picked up her book and placed it in her desk drawer, then sat back, clasping her hands with her index fingers steepled. She tapped her lips. A second, high ringing chime sounded as the door slid open and a tall lanky light brunette stepped through. He marched up to Betty's desk and halted, standing at attention. He held a large box of files in the crook of one arm. Betty continued to tap for a moment. At least Will had stopped saluting.

"At ease Mister Du." At that, the man shifted to a shoulder width stance, with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Your report is exceedingly thorough. Good work." Doctor Director paused, giving Will time to respond.

"Thank you, sir."

"However, you report's analysis requests more time for surveillance for an accurate diagnosis of the problem." Will nodded without comment, his eyes on the Director. _So he'd expected this interview_, Betty mused to herself. _He's not as green as he used to be._

"I-," Will hesitated, his eyes going down and left, "have some suspicions that need concrete confirmation before putting a final analysis on record." Doctor Director stared at the young man until he began to fidget a little.

"Let's hear it, Mister Du."

"Doctor Dir-"

"Mister Du, you have my undivided attention." Will hesitate for another long moment, then his shoulders slumped. He glanced meaningfully at the War Chest.

"May we...?"

Betty gestured him toward the blue-grey contraption and stood, following him there. She walked around to the wall-side corner of the large table and placed her hand on a small square indentation. A panel to the left of the indentation opened silently and a retinal scanner emerged. Will looked away as Doctor Director flipped up her eye patch and had both eyes scanned. A soft chime sounded.

"Doctor Director, welcome to the War Chest. Please verbalize your request." She straightened, readjusting her patch and gave a meaningful look at Will as he put box by his feet.

"War Chest, display a flat geographic map of the world; overlay statistical analysis from Appendix C of file PLS-HCO-17532 alpha."

The light between the ceiling protrusion and the table wavered. Particles swirled in a twirling galaxy of light, suddenly snapping into a soft bluish holographic display of a world map. Small graphs and numbers appeared all over the globe.

"What you're seeing is the activity of Hench Co. personnel at their centers of technology and weapons. These are the warehouses of third party end product distributors, with high probabilities of being part of their double blind logistical network; many of which have been linked to Hench Co. or their suspected shadow firms. War Chest, display beginning of time index and pause." Several orange glowing bars and numbers appeared many of them very low. A single large graph hovered above the map, followed by a time and date display.

"War Chest is now going to display personnel activity at each site; above is Hench Co.'s hiring statistics. As you can see, it's a typical number for them. War Chest, run time index at half speed."

As the time and date started to scroll foreword, graphs and numbers spiked at three locations: France, South Africa and Brazil. Suddenly the overhead number jumped, as well as the base numbers of all Atlantic coastline facilities.

"War Chest, pause time index. What we see here is an increase of personnel activity at three disparate locations spiked at different times, followed by a massive surge in Hench Co. hiring and a general distribution of personnel in all Atlantic coast facilities. This suggest to me that - "

"Someone is stealing from Hench Co..." Doctor Director said in a low voice. "And the bulk of the hiring spike went into Security Services?"

"Yes, sir. I've run the spysat readings and the activities certainly point in that direction." Doctor Director crossed her arms and was silent. She turned and walked back around the War Chest and stopped at the pantry.

"Muster Du, have some tea. I think we have more to discuss," she said as she gestured to her desk and opened her tin of Golden Jubilee.

Will hesitated and swallowed.

"Yes, sir."

"Please take a moment to explain the source of your figures." Betty said as she spooned some leaves into a round metal infuser the size of a walnut. She closed it and locked the latch, dropping it into a small clay pot. With her left hand she held a small pot under the snub-nosed nozzle of the electric hot water dispenser. With her other hand, she pressed the dispense button and steaming hot water erupted from the nozzle. She filled the pot about half way and closed the lid. With two cups nondescript mugs in her right hand, she returned to the War Chest and placed a mug beside the young man. She poured the steaming liquid into his cup, then her own.

"Thank you, sir," Will said as Betty leaned back and sipped from her mug. "Um... let me begin with the resources that has been committed to the logistical surveillance of Hench Co. We have approximately three hundred and thirty electronic taps on their data streams worldwide. The Deep Five decryption team is working full time sorting through their communications. They're using about thirty-two percent of the main servers in section ten for their test algorithms. Deep Six is attempting to crack their own lo-jack type encryption, using about 9 percent of server time. We have surveillance on seven hiring agencies that Hench Co.'s suspected security firms is known to use. In addition, we have three spysats routinely checking suspected facilities. We also have about three ground teams based in the Ukraine, Brazil and Indonesia in regular contact with Hench Co. personnel. Lastly, we've infiltrated approximately three undercover operatives; two in middle management in the aforementioned security firms, and one floor manager in Hench Co itself." Will paused for a drink as Betty continued to pierce him with her staring eye.

"The extra activity was discovered via heat plume detection by spysat. This was further corroborated by Hubble photography. It was after the third such detection that the activity at several of the security agencies increased their hiring. Several personnel vehicles from the agency training centres were traced via spysat directly to those three facilities."

"I recall those details." Betty thought a moment. "Was there a spike in their communications during this time?"

Will shifted nervously. "Not noticeably, perhaps a fluctuation of twenty or thirty terabytes..."

"And the numbers... were the personnel transferred to these three facilities from the agencies our two security moles work for?" Will's face suddenly paled.

"I believe so, sir."

"All these years of suspected networks and centres, and suddenly, Hench's companies make such obvious moves, right under our surveillance nets." Betty eye looked right into Will's; he swallowed nervously. "Let's take another look at your files, shall we?" Without moving her eye from Will's face, she said, "War Chest, log off and power-down."

"Yes, Doctor Director. Good-bye." With that, the holographic image dispersed, motes of light swirling and fading away. The frosted surfaces ceased glowing.

Will laid his files across the War Chest surface. Betty began asking questions regarding the whereabouts of certain details. Will responded as best he could, attempting to keep up with Betty's rapid-fire questions and her branching threads of thought. She lifted pages and put them in separate piles. After a few hours of sifting Will's thirteen hundred page report, and paring down ten stacks of paper, three separate piles sat before the head of Global Justice.

She picked up each, leafed through them slowly in turn. She produced a highlighter from a pocket and marked specific sections of each page. She removed pages and replaced them with others, then read through them again. After another hour, Betty handed one pile to Will.

"I was afraid of this," was all she said.

Sweat began to bead on Will's forehead as he read through the thin stack of paper that Doctor Director had just handed him.

"Soo,..." Will began, "we don't know if he knows exactly who our men are, although he may, and he knows which companies we've been fingering, so he's,... using that to send us a message without seeming so,... in order to keep Hench Co.'s image intact?"

"Tomorrow, you may check the intensification scans on the tungsten communication laser arrays on the Hench Co. Tower for corroboration on the timeline, but I guarantee that there was a rapid burst prior to the rise in activity. Jack knows we're watching and he knows we've got people both on in the field _**-and-**_ inside. He's sending us a message, a request. My bet is that facilities _**-have-**_ been hit, but not the ones Jack has exposed to us. It's also almost certain that his efforts to locate the thieves have met with little success. Thus, he's turning to us, trusting us to keep our discretion. Anyone able and willing to steal from Jack Hench cannot be good for the world. Unfortunately, this file's net has compromised the safety of our inside agents. You are _**-not-**_ to use them again."

"But- but,... why go through such an elaborate ruse?" Will's eyes were wide with shock as he continued through the portions Betty had highlighted on the papers of his report.

"How would it look if it ever got out that Hench Co. came to Global Justice for help? My best guess is that our three inside men will get suddenly retired with excellent pay packages once this situation's been resolved to Hench's satisfaction, and those security companies will be cut loose from the Hench family of shadow companies. And _**-that-**_ will be his thanks."

"I-," Will's eyes were wide. His hands trembled as he put the papers down. "This is my fault, sir. I wanted to move things along, get things done, but by pushing the envelope, all I've done is expose years of work, wasted millions of man hours, and cost us..." He stopped as Betty held up a hand.

"An expensive lesson, to be sure. Will, you are an excellent field agent. Be glad that this lesson hasn't been stained with blood."

"Y-yes, sir," Will's said, his voice raw with emotion.

"Tonight, you will go home and sleep. Tomorrow, I want a full report on the personnel in the field that are linked to this file in _**-any-**_ way. Lastly, you are to continue as the lead agent on this file. Do not forget, Will. Global Justice is not about perfection. We don't run or hide from mistakes. We fix them. And that is what you will do." She waited until Will nodded, his hands clutching the papers between his hands.

"That will be all, Special Agent Du."

"Yes sir," Will staggered with fatigue as he stood, with tired eyes. He quickly and efficiently gathered up the papers strewn across the War Chest and carefully placed them in the box. He hesitated for a moment, then departed with, "Thank you for the tea, it was lovely."

Betty sighed as she leaned back, her head awhirl. She walked back to her desk and sat in The Chair. Jack Hench asking Global Justice for help? And in a manner that Global Justice could only respond surreptitiously. Betty frowned. She did _**-not-**_ like being manipulated. But Will's mistake was also an excellent opportunity, and only his attention to detail had made the message all the more clear.

Will had an uncanny ability to remember minute facts. That was why she had put him in charge of such an important file as Hench Co. Logistical Surveillance. Yet, sometimes, he could not see the forest for the trees, as it were. She leaned over her desk, resting her head in her arms.

Two operations by different villainous organizations, impossibly at the command of their incarcerated leaders. Assaults and thefts made against Hench Co., the assailant unknown. Presumably, trillions have been lost, to the point that Jack Hench willingly exposed himself to Global Justice for help. Everything pointed to a hidden player, pulling strings from the dark. Betty's eye closed, her breathing slow and deep.

This posture had gotten her in trouble when she was young, but irate teachers and professors had soon learnt the errors of their assumptions.

Betty was thinking. By putting her body at ease, she could bend all her energy toward problem solving. She sifted her thoughts, systematically selecting, testing, discarding, placing, reexamining, and replacing pieces of complex puzzle pieces. Every 20 minutes, she stopped thinking altogether to allow thoughts to settle and to wipe her mind clear of assumptions. For years scientists had been telling her that such analysis should be left to artificial intelligent programs. Betty finally responded should computers accurately replicate her intuition, she would gladly give them her job. The scientists merely gave each other a look and went back to their projects.

When she took her twelfth mental break, the office door opened.

A soft chime sounded, deeper in tone than previous as the door closed. Her face hidden in her arms, she smiled at the familiar tread. Even before soft arms encircled her resting form, she could smell the other's musky scent; not perfume, not deodorant, not sweat, but a sweet heady aroma. Golden hair fell across her and for a moment, Betty's troubles fell away from her.

"You work too hard, ducky," the woman said.

"You too," came Betty's muffled voice. "What time is it?"

"Mmm... about two thirty in the morning." The arms left and the soft footfalls moved to the pantry.

Betty sat up and turned to look at the new comer. She smiled at the long blonde hair that streamed over the back of a white lab coat, partially concealing the woman's hip-hugging black jeans and lilac halter mid-riff top. The woman opened the pantry cabinet and leaned over to take out two tasteful ceramic cup and saucer sets. Betty looked on.

"Enjoying the view?" The woman straightened and spoke without turning.

Betty blushed with embarrassment. Doctor Betty Director, accredited teaching master of Krav Maga, Aikido, Brazilian Jiu-jitsu, Thai kick boxing and Close Quarters Combat, head of an international crime fighting organization, who hobnobbed with Heads of State, interrogated the hardest of criminals and liaised with shadow organizations, was blushing.

"_'How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, like softest music to attending ears_,'" was all she said. Vivian's hand paused in the action of spooning the loose Red Mountain Tea at her words.

"Again with the prose," came Vivian's voice, slightly thick, as she returned to spooning whole leaf tea. Betty smiled; even without seeing her face, she knew her words had found its mark and struck true. "Don't you know anything that doesn't come from a Shakespearean tragedy?" Vivian plopped the two infusers into the cups and filled the ceramic with scalding hot water.

"Death teaches us to cherish love. And they're practically the same thing; they're both dark and liberating, tragic and wonderful." Vivian eased herself onto Betty's lap. She tucked the brunette's head under her chin and wrapped her arms around the blue-suited woman in a gentle embrace. Betty placed a hand on the scientist's hip, the other on the knee.

"Sometimes I think your silver tongue is what made me fall in love with you," Vivian murmured into the brunette's hair. "Heaven and Hell all wrapped up in one."

"This coming from a scientist," Betty chuckled. "And you call me a hopeless romantic."

"Religion and science aren't necessarily exclusive. Besides, you have -_**three-**_ doctorates; I just have the one." Vivian sighed, running fingers through brown hair. "Never was a romantic 'til I met you."

"Guess it's contagious."

"Hey, you ran into me. I was minding my own business and trying to get to the auditorium. Next thing I know, SPLAT! There went all my blueprints."

"I was late for Bortel's Energy and the Mind lecture. If I hadn't had to escort Doctor Director to yours, we'd never have met." Betty made a face. "Gawd, that's ancient history. Back then, you were MIT's poster girl."

"More like pin-up girl. I even had a fan club! You know how embarrassing that was? Every time I got a lecture invite, I wondered if they were just asking me so they could take pictures to confirm my breast size or test a new remote scanner to make skin texture maps for their sick little game mods."

"I can see how that's bad, but as a one-eyed cyclops, I never had to deal with that. You could have had your pick of geniuses."

"I always thought I'd be swept off my feet by a tall, dark, ruggedly handsome stranger."

"Three out of four is pretty good." Vivian goosed the woman, but Betty showed no reaction. Vivian slipped off her perch to lift out the tea infusers. She handed Betty a cup, who took the saucer with a murmur of thanks. The blonde leaned against the pantry and sipped delicately at her own.

"Why so late," Betty asked after a few sips. "GJ time or GCI's?"

"GCI. I finished GJ's work earlier today. I'm waiting for manufacturing to come back with the parts for the prototype. But the GCI work is really groundbreaking. Can't say much, it's restricted, but I wonder where they're getting all their data from. Whomever they're getting their stuff, it's simply top notch. Very organized and thorough, but the principles are well thought out and very accurate. The author's gotta be a woman."

"Men aren't that bad. They excel in physical endurance, spatial acuity and mental focus. Women are radar, men are missiles."

"Not Venutians and Martians?" Vivian laughed.

"The Martians might get insulted."

"The Venutians too," Vivian mused as she took another sip. Betty felt the stress lift completely out of her; she took her tea to The Couch. She put her cup on the coffee table and sat at the backed portion.

"C'mon," she said as she lounged with one leg propped on The Couch. Vivian gave a suddenly shy smile and followed Betty's lead, her cup joining its twin as she settled against the tall brunette. Betty wrapped her arms around her with a sigh. Vivian suddenly giggled.

"Who'd have thought I'd end up dating my boss," Vivian said, jokingly. Betty frowned.

"Does that... bother you?" she asked thickly.

"If it did, I'd never have taken you up on your offer when I'd leaked to you that my contract at 'ehm-ess-see' was up for renewal," Vivian shrugged.

"I didn't like the way the Middleton Space Centre's Board of Governors were treating you. You deserved better."

"Doctor Wong and Doctor Possible were very enthusiastic and considerate."

"Yeah, well-" Suddenly, what Vivian said hit Betty right between the eyes. "Wait a minute! You said 'leaked'..."

"What? Don't tell me,..." Vivian twisted a bit and turned to look Betty in the face. The brunette's poleaxed expression was answer enough. "Oh. My. Gaaaawwwdd!" Vivian tried to hold it in, but after a few seconds of suppressed convulsive snickers, she burst out laughing.

"You- you, did-didn't..." she got out between guffaws. Betty stoically refrained from comment while the woman writhed in her arms.

"I-... I-... th-thought..." Vivian began to wheeze. "Omigawd... Omigawd,... gonna pee...!" Vivian fell off the couch, gasping for breath, trying to control her laughter. Betty folded her arms deciding not to assist her lover.

The blonde woman started taking deep breaths "haaahh... hahhh... hoooo, okay...", only to burst into fresh peals of laughter at the sight of her girlfriend's long-suffering dead-pan face. After another five minutes, red faced and slightly blue lipped, Vivian sat up from the ground, wiping away tears.

"Explain yourself, Miss Porter," was all Betty said when the woman finally calmed herself.

"I thought you knew what I meant. I mean, with the two of us working in different organizations, let alone cities, I hardly ever got to see you! I mean, it was either be a work widow or leave you. So if I couldn't beat work, I'd join it." Vivian shook her head with amusement. "Wow,... the great Betty Director couldn't get the hints her girlfriend had been dropping for months..."

"I was very busy at the time, if I recall. The Hubble telescope was involved, remember that?"

"No need to be snippy, ducky," Vivian sniffed. "Besides, it has worked in our favour. Now I can see you practically all I want."

"Hmph. So what else have you put over on me, Miss Porter?" Betty's left eyebrow rose above her single glaring eye.

"Well," Vivian demurred, but Betty caught her glance at The Couch.

"No." Betty's wide eye flicked back and forth as she searched her memory. "No way!"

"But Elisabet," Vivian purred at the dumbstruck woman, fixing her with a sultry heavy lidded gaze. "You have to admit,..." she placed her palms on her lovers' knees. "It certainly has come in... handy."

Betty Director, for the second time that tumultuous day, blushed like a maiden on her wedding night.

But before their lips met, Vivian suddenly backed away.

"Oh! It's ready!" Betty caught herself leaning forward, leaning in. The woman scrambled to her feet and scampered out, slamming the heavy oak door behind her. Betty sat up and put her face in her hands, her heart still racing. She noticed the back of Vivian's hand glowing a soft pearly white. _Damn GCI_, Betty grumbled.

"Um..." The head of Global Justice turned to look at her door. Vivian's head peeked in. "Sorry to run off, but the data I've been waiting for is ready..." The blonde's face was now a deep red, abashed at leaving Betty sitting on The Couch.

Betty sighed and waved at the scientist. "Don't worry, I'm going to get some shut eye; you know where to find me."

"Okay. See ya!" Vivian blew a kiss and disappeared. Betty put her face back into her hands. There was no way she'd be able to work now. With a heavy sigh, she returned the half finished cups to the pantry and withdrew a woolen comforter from the bottom shelf.

She settled on to The Couch, draped the blanket over herself and was asleep within minutes.

- KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP -

In her haste, she dials the number wrong four times before taking a few breaths to calm herself. She dances back and forth as the ring tone, a weird warbling sound. With a click a deep multi-toned voice answers.

"Hello?"

"Hi." Her voice shakes with excitement.

"Dearest. So good to hear your voice." She closes her eyes as an unfamiliar feeling thrills its way through her.

"I have something to tell you!" She pushes her hairband into place, but locks of hair escape and hang greasily down her face. Her hair is a mess from days of frantic and feverish work. But it is completely worth it.

"Yes? Some thing good from the tone of your voice," comes the man's raspy reply.

"Guess."

"Hmmm, you've won the lottery? No you wouldn't waste your time on such drivel... You've been selected as a Nobel Prize recipient?"

"Nope! Better than that."

"Better? You've been invited to a seat on MENSA's Board of Governors."

"Uh-uh! Last try!"

"Hmmm. Sssomething to do with work...?" The tone is sly but it doesn't register on the wide grinning girl.

"Yes, exactly. I'm done!"

"Done...? You mean...?"

"Yes! I've just sent off the specifications and formulas for verification!" The back of her right hand, holding the phone begins to glow, flashing. "And there it is!"

"Fortuitous," is the harsh reply.

"Remember what you promised, when I'm done?"

"My dear, I will send for you immediately." The blond girl trembles with repressed energy, her thin face glowing with emotion.

"Great! I'll go pack my things."

"No need. I have everything here for you when you arrive."

"Okay! See you soon. And..." her eyes sparkle with unshed tears. She thought she'd fear these words, but it isn't hard. Not hard at all. She cradles the handset and lets them flow out of her. "I love you." Her pale face flushes.

"Dearest. A chauffeur will come to your door and escort you. Don't forget your blueprints. I'd love a first hand look at your amazing work."

"Alright. I'll see you soon!" With that she hangs up.

A one-eyed man puts down a hand set, and smiles a tombstone grin. Behind him stands the lanky muscled Dei, as Tien lounges on the couch. A shadowy hand presses a small button on a high backed swivelling chair.

"Ms. Flanner has just provided us with the last part of Phase One. Prepare Phase Two," he rasps out, chuckling. "Soon. Oh yes, very soon, my family will come back to me."

He continues to chuckle, until he bursts out laughing. Outside the room, grey suited men cringe at the sound and swiftly go about their business.


	9. Chapter 9: Letting Go

_Interlude_

_I knew this whole damn thing was going to be trouble. I checked out Pumpkin's web site and found a weird little link. It took me to some page that talked about some time traveling paperweight, the Tempus Simia, and how I took over the world. So why am I so weirded out to find out that I was a better villain than Drakken ever was? That I actually accomplished what Drakken had always just threatened; that I took over the world? But finding out that your own badass self had turned into some weird sicko mind controlling freak, that's gotta be up there with some of the worst mind fucks ever. And what the fuck is with the cape? I can't believe she- er, I- dammit, whatever, kept Drakken around for laughs. I mean the guy's a big goof, but... is that I'd really become with that kind of power? I _**-ran-**_ from shit like that. I'd left that behind along with Hego and the rest of those stupid-ass morons. But is that what I really want? Do I really want to take over the world? Have everyone kowtowing to me because of a fucking collar around his or her neck? Am I really... evil?_

_Doctor D fought for me because of that damned collar. Kimmie's family and friends stepped up and did what she'd always done when she'd disappeared: save the world. No one would even lift a finger for the Supreme One without the threat of excruciating pain or death._

_You know... thanks, Princess. I don't even know why I'm saying this. But thanks._

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

_I never told Ron this... but I did remember the whole Tempus Simia mish. When Ron got shucked out to Norway, I felt so disjointed. My rhythm was off, everything just felt wrong. I just couldn't pull myself together without him. I even dragged Mon into it, I was that desperate. Even Ron had some martial arts training. But Mon soon became more than that. So did everyone else. I just couldn't believe that when I disappeared from their lives, they took up my causes; picked up the torch I dropped. Wow. I love those guys._

_But the most sickwrong thing happened; I'd rather forget, but can't. When I saw the Supreme one, even with that grey in her hair... my legs turned to water, and something... weird... happened to me. That ridiculous cape,... when __û__ber Drakken came at me, I couldn't even mount a decent assault. All I could think was... _

**-She's so hot!-**

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

**Chapter Nine: Letting Go**

Shego stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was wearing a black blouse, with the three top buttons undone, showing a large emerald solitaire resting between her full breasts. Her dark forest green denim capris ended at folded cuffs where black leather boots began. Her hair was combed and fluffed. The door was closed and locked. Cold water was running full blast in the tub. Drakken was out schmoozing with the university's educational elite and shouldn't be back for an hour.

It was time for a little heart to heart.

"Just what the _**-fuck-**_ are you doing?" she snarled at her reflection. Just what the hell was she doing with Kimmie? Playing her, making fucking eyes with her, flashing her in the middle of Global Justice headquarters like some tripped out schmuck.

"You're getting way to close to that prissy little cheerleader!" Kim was almost constantly on her mind now; the way she blushed, the way she unconsciously tapped her fingers when impatient or that incandescent glow she had when on a mission. Shego even noticed the wry quirk in the red-head's mouth when she responded "No big" to all the people that seemed to know her, or owe her.

"You want to put yourself through that again?" Like today, Shego sometimes feared that for all her snark and bluster, she was just a fragile little wuss. The best defence was always an overwhelming offence. Shego had always grabbed life by the balls and made it dance to her tune. Never the other way around. Strike first, so you never get hurt.

"You only have to stick to two promises. Can't you even do that? Is that all you're made of?" She'd left Team Go so she could stick to those promises. She'd left her family, her career, her fucking _**-life-**_. With an iron will, she'd forged herself anew, better, stronger. Her reputation was second to none. She'd held the title of the most wanted woman in the world for ten years. People either ran screaming at the hint of her name or bowed down to pay homage. And now, that was going to come crashing down for some college sophomore?

"If you can't fuck and forget, you better get the fuck out." If Kim wasn't simply like all the others, a stick to scratch her itch one day then burn with the rest of the trash the next, she was going to be trouble. Trouble wasn't something she wanted. And why fuck with the girl anyway? Kim didn't deserve that. She didn't need some one so messed up.

"You need to be free. You need to be strong." This would give her enemies another target. Leverage to make her do what they wanted. Emotional ties would always be a liability, and this one was getting way out of hand. Besides, Kim was already getting too deep. It was time to give the girl some air, some perspective. A dose of the real Shego, so that the girl would turn the right way. She didn't need Kim, and Kim didn't need her.

"You know what you need to do to make it right."

Yeah. She was going to do what needed to be done.

Because that was the way it should be, right?

She was interrupted by a pounding at the bathroom door.

"Shego! You've been in there for at least ten minutes; are you talking to yourself again? I really need to use-"

She didn't even need to look as she hurled a blast of plasma through the door. She could hear Drew's girlish "eeep!" from inside the bathroom.

"N-n-never mind, Shego... I don't need to go anymore..."

She kicked open the door and the blue scientist jumped back, the pink flowered vine rearing back in surprise. She curled her lip at the wet stain on his pants.

"You're back a little early; did they run out of cocktail weenies?" She stalked past. Shego pulled on a soft black leather mid-length trench coat and shouldered a green flight bag with black trim.

"Yes as a matter of fact,... er, Shego,...? Where are you..."

"Out for lunch. Then its off to the next lecture site and give the security a once over before you arrive, so I'm heading out right after. Make sure your stupid ass is on the plane to Middleton in three days, okay? The ticket's being held at the front desk; they'll give it to you when you leave. You know what'll happen if you don't make that flight." Shego put her hand on the door handle.

Drew swallowed nervously. "Yes, but,... aren't you leaving a bit early? You usually leave no earlier than the day before."

"Yeah, and remember that Middleton knows who you were, Der-rewbie. Beside, it's a villain's favourite cooking out spot for making trouble." She opened the door. This was it. No turning back.

The door closed behind her with a loud click.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Shego entered the bistro just a little after twelve. No practise today; Kim had insisted that they take a break after yesterday's mission. She was sure the girl was sore from the whole gruelling mess. As she approached their usual table, she saw Kim was already there. When the girl saw her, the red-head's face lit up and waved at her excitedly. Shego viscously beat down the feeling that suddenly blossomed in her chest.

"Heya, Pumpkin," Shego said as she dropped her flight bad on the ground and sat. "You wait long?"

"Oh, no, just got here myself," Kim replied. _She's such a terrible liar_, Shego made a small wry grin. Merl, one of the part-timers showed up to take their order. Shego called her usual, sliced grilled chicken on a bed of spinach with Japanese dressing on the side, to be followed up with a latte. Kim just called for the avocado sandwich with alfalfa spread and a decaf chaser.

Shego watched the girl's lips as they moved. They were like dancers, able to express deep thoughts with a single twitch. Then her time was occupied by giving a burbling feeling a severe nuggie.

"Is something wrong, Shego?" Kim asked.

"Hmmm? No, why?" Shego blinked.

"Oh nothing. Just that I've been talking to you for the last ten minutes and you haven't said a word. You just kinda stared at me."

"Getting on your nerves, Princess?" Shego teased.

"Well, ye-hah. How'd you like it if I stared at you and said nothing?"

"Pfft, like I'd care," Shego waved off Kim's words with a hand. "Besides, you'd know that answer, since you were doing plenty of staring at Obalglay Usticejay." Kim blushed.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I did," Kim admitted, her face turning a bit even redder at the memory. "But hey, How do you notice all those things and remember them? That was so cool!"

"Training and habit, Pumpkin," Shego shrugged. "It pays to notice things. For instance, knowing what kind of gun someone carries lets you count the number of bullets he's fired so you know when he's going to have to reload. Or knowing what kind of comlink they use to know if you can take out the command post nearby. Betty wasn't so happy with your report, so I just added some stuff she could use."

"Yeah. You remember what she said, about an offer?" Shego nodded. "When summer rolled around Doctor Director offered me an internship at, uh, Obalglay Usticejay. That would've given me a security clearance and allow me to take some courses that they offer. There was one called The Trained Eye. I didn't say yes at the time, since I thought I'd be busy, but by the time it turned out I wasn't, classes were already a few weeks underway. Besides, working at GJ would just remind me of Ron, so I didn't take it."

"That sounds like something you should do, Pumpkin. Whatever you're doing in university isn't likely to save your life or help save others." _Dammit_, Shego told herself, _shut up! This is a break-up lunch. You don't need to dig yourself deeper._ At that point, a whirlwind of emotions assaulted her and she fell silent.

Merl granted her a reprieve by showing up with their order and they fell to eating. Kim continued to talk, and Shego absently nodded, not really listening. She ate mechanically; the food was before her, so she just forked it into her mouth without noticing the taste.

"Shego?"

"Yeah, Princess?"

"Are you going to use your dressing?"

"Just trying something different, Pumpkin."

"Oh, okay. Anyway,..." And with that, Kim continued about whatever she'd been talking about before. _That was close_, Shego thought to herself. Eventually the food disappeared and Merl arrived to clear away their empty plates. Shego excused herself to use the bathroom. She walked at a relaxed pace, but as soon as she entered the facility, she sat down on the leather couch inside the large washroom and pulled out her smart phone. She dialed a local number.

"I need a ride from Manic, the bistro at 4th and Wellington to the airport. Ten minutes? Okay. I'll be waiting." She loitered a few minutes then washed her hands. She stopped by the till before going back to the table. Kim looked up as Merl returned with their coffee and blushed. _What the hell is that girl thinking_, Shego wondered. Then she turned on herself with, _whatever it is, you don't care_!

"Hey you know, I think they're playing D.E.B.S. Two this week. Did you ever see the first one? Gawd it was awful, but also kinda sweet..." Shego made measured glances toward the front windows of the bistro or her watch. After a few minutes, she knew it was time.

She was going to do it. It was way past time. She couldn't take it any more. Make it nice and quick. Don't mess it up and let Kim take the initiative.

"Pumpkin."

Kim stopped talking. Shego had only half listened to the girl go on about the movie that was opening this Friday; she figured that Kim was working her way up to asking if she wanted to go see it. Shego wrestled down the weird, terrifying bubbly feeling. Kim stopped stirring her decaffeinated coffee and looked up at the serious face Shego was making.

She had to get away. She knew Kim knew something was up; Shego had been distracted and morose all through lunch.

"I'm leaving. Drew's lecture thing is done here, so we're off to the next town. Don't know when I'm going to be back."

Kim's eyes widened and she flushed a little. Ever since the Oil Rig mission, she'd blushed more readily than ever before. Shego wasn't sure why; perhaps her little skin show at GJ started it. Or maybe it was the stares they got from the retrieval team.

"Well, I-, uh..." Kim stuttered at the sudden news. Her eyes were wide with shock. Was it already four weeks? Shego had never been specific about the length of Drew's stay here. Kim just didn't think it was going to end. But Shego was going to end it. End it before it hurt too much. Before she broke all her promises. "Do-,... do you need help packing?"

"Naw, you know me, I always pack light. And laundry's always included on Doctor Dee's tours. He's leaving in a few, but I gotta scout out the next site." Shego gulped down her latte and stood. "Don't worry about the bill, I already took care of it." Kim's mouth opened, but nothing came out. "Well, thanks for the last few weeks, Princess, it's been a slice. See ya later." With that Shego left. As she moved away, she heard Kim bump the table loudly, punctuated by a loud "ouch!"

"Shego-" Shego heard Kim call out as she stepped out the door. The cab she'd called from the bathroom ten minutes ago was waiting at the curb. She turned to see Kim fumble with her sling bag and run for the door through the bistro's dessert window display.

"Shego wait!" The black haired woman could see the words on the frantic hero's lips. She ducked into the cab and knocked on the protective divider.

"Airport. Go already."

Shego glanced at the side mirror as the cab sped off. Kim stood in the early afternoon sun, her mouth moving, calling her name. Even at this distance, Shego's trained mind could see the tears.

"Goodbye, Princess. You're better off without me."

The great Shego didn't cry. She wasn't going to start now, as much as she felt like it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wade was just returning to his room after taking a delivery from a FedEx courier. The security package in his hand was bulky, but very light, as he expected. He stepped into his security corridor that led to his room. Blue light bathed him first, scanning his vitals and searching for anomalies. As he continued down the sloped thirty foot corridor, he was hit with a dozen or so fans which blew as much lint and dust off his clothes as possible. At the bottom of the slope, just outside a second door, he put on a special pair of slippers specially made to drain the static charge from his body to the floor.

The door chimed as it slid open and he stepped into his sanctuary.

Built ten feet under ground, the room was hardened against almost every surveillance and energy siphoning theory known to man. It was no longer a cozy, dark lair where a short chubby kid munched his snacks and drank his pop as he took on world organizations and sparred with international villains.

The walls were a mix of nonconducting filaments, energy absorbing netting and steel reinforced cement with molded seams. The interior was a bare whitewash. It was thirty by thirty feet with a twelve foot ceiling and was mostly grey and off-white.

Inside was a spartan room, a far cry from his chubby-tubby days, as Wade referred to them. Along one wall was his treadmill; the wall before it was lined with a ten foot by ten foot opaque film monitor and tracking camera. Along the opposite wall was his semicircular command centre; the entire wall was curved and lined from floor to ceiling with more wafer thin film monitors commanded by a circular raised podium with a section of waist height rail. A small circular platter held his virtual console gloves and glasses.

Lining the wall opposite the entrance was a sectioned anti-dust compartment that lined the entire wall from top to bottom. Three automated robotic arms which would race across the thirty racks of twelve inch back-up reels that contained all his back-ups and code scraps; he joked that it was a full documentation of his six years as a certified MENSA card carrying genius. Set into the floor was a stairwell leading to his three server stacks.

The dark skinned teen was not short and flabby as he was a few years ago. Kim had started his training regimen when he was just starting his second doctorate degree, around the time that she had told him about the Tempus Simia non-mission and asked him to post it under the "Strange Missions" category of her web site. He'd been complaining to her about migraines and lack of energy, when Kim just looked him in the eye via the Kimmunicator.

"I don't want to sound rude, Wade. Team Possible is only able to do the things it does because Wade Thomas is its foundation. I wouldn't be Kim Possible without you Wade. But, my friend, you need to lose weight!"

Wade still remembered his outrage at her, the tantrum he threw, refusing to speak to her for several weeks. He'd even unplugged his Kimmunication centre. But eventually, he wandered into the Kim Possible Web site out of habit on a bored, migraine-laden week; posted on the splash page, the one that greeted all visitors, was an all but blank screen with only a simple short paragraph. He still remembered the words exactly:

"Hi. This is Kim. You'll notice the web site doesn't look like its spiffy self. That's because my good friend Wade is going through a difficult time right now. He not only runs my web site and takes mission calls, he also makes sure I have enough support to finish each and every mission; without him, I'd be dead a hundred times over, he's that important. Team Possible will be on hiatus until Wade feels he's ready to rejoin the team. Please drop this address an email of encouragement, to let him know that we all care and that he is not alone."

Inside the web site server was over ten thousand messages, signed by people of all ages and walks of life, in more languages than he knew. From children in Nunavut, professors in the South Pole, astronauts at N.A.S.A., to the Queen of England, emails wishing him the best. Even a contingent of recognized white hat and infamous black hat hackers sent him a faux-bomb that simply ran a three dimensional "We got your back" graphic. He couldn't help but shed a tear at that. He called up Kim, thinking to mumble out an apology, but Kim wouldn't hear it.

"You had every right to be mad, Wade. I just wanted to help, and sometimes I can get too in your face; sorry."

He stuck to Kim's regimen, and then started planning his own six months later. In the following year, his height shot over a painful foot and a half. He remembered Kim's description of the Tempus Simia Wade that Kim described to him, chuckling as she said that he was sure starting to look like that. He'd even started leaving the house, although never without his own personal portable server.

Now he was a gangly six foot teen. He'd started working on some muscle mass to help support his size, taking to Tae Kwon Do with fervor and dedication; he was starting Brazilian jujitsu soon.

He tore open the package and out fell a small case with a tiny chip in it.

"Damnit," he sighed. _Those Intel guys never learn_, he thought as he shook his head.

His thoughts were interrupted as a familiar chime sounded. He put on his wireless headset and pressed the connect button on the earpiece. It activated the Kimmunication Centre, a thirty inch square patch on his wall to wall monitor that displayed the connecting device's camera capture.

"He-ey,... Kim?" As his automated tracking camera found and altered the video display to face his direction, all he saw was a wild blur blue sky, sunlight, grass, a sidewalk, a v-necked pink tunic blouse and tan capris. He could hear the sound of shoes slapping down hard on cement, and saw a flash of red hair. "Kim?" Wade hesitated as he approached his Command Podium.

"WadeIneedafavour!" Kim gasped out as her footfalls ceased for a moment and the bright wide eyes of an infant in a pram sailed past the screen.

"Sure, what's up?" Wade scratched his head before putting on his virtual console gloves and goggles.

"Trackthatblackandcreamcabforme!" The image held almost still, jostling in unison with the staccato of Kim's shoes. He saw a car three blocks away and getting farther. Wade tapped a virtual button and took a snapshot of the image, then ran it through a graphics-clearing program on his server.

"We'reheadingEastonWellingtonjustpassed57th!" Kim gasped. He could hear her breath labouring as she sprinted down the street.

"It's an ACME Cab; they're all that colour. Did you catch the serial on the trunk?"

"Uh... AHM1782! Itdida... pickatManic...4thandWellington!" Kim's voice was starting to hitch. Was she... crying? Then Wade thought about what she said. Holy crap! Had she been chasing the cab from that spot?

"'Kay, gimme a sec, gonna have to hack the LoJack system and the National Crime Information Centre... gonna take a while.." Wade called up a virtual keyboard and began furiously tapping in the air, his precise keystrokes feeding line after line into his server. "Okay! Got it! Good eye Kim, that's the cab; I cross-referenced the ACME Cab dispatch database. I've got the Lojack chip running."

Wade then did a quick hack into the firmware of a local microwave tower, recalibrating the sensors to search for the Lojack frequency. A map of Kim's area displayed. One dot, in pink marked Kim's location. The other was a blue dot that marked the cab.

Even with the cab 3 blocks away, Wade could see the glow of a sudden green flash and the signal went dead.

"Wade, do you still have it? I think Shego just..."

"Uh, yeah... sorry Kim; she just fried the transceiver. Damn, how'd she do that?"

Suddenly, Kim went "Ooof!"

The swerving image became a blur. Feedback forced Wade to wince as he tore the comlink from his ear. When he looked back at the monitor, it was black.

"Miss, are you... okay?" he heard a voice. There was a bit of silence, then he could hear Kim's near hysterical laughter. He replaced the earpiece. After a couple of keystrokes a camera popped out of the KPS housing, flipping it over; more keystrokes and a robotic claw prop the KPS up. Yep, the KPS had been lying face down. Wade typed some more and the lens extended out and surveyed the area.

Kim was sitting a few meters away, face the KPS, sitting with her legs bent beside her. Her arms hung limply at her sides, bloody scrapes on the heels of her hands and a tear in her right pant leg. Wade shuddered; it reminded him of a puppet with its strings cut. Her head hung backward and she was laughing at the sky as a dark haired teenager backed away, holding his skateboard protectively between himself and the overwrought girl. After a moment, Kim's strange hilarity subsided into hiccups. Tears ran down her cheeks, but Wade was pretty sure it wasn't because she was feeling good.

"Yeah,... great,... just,... yeah, great." she said, her voice thick, and hitching. The teen stared doubtfully at the red-head.

"Well, okay,... later," he said as he threw his board on the ground. "You need help, lady," Wade heard him mutter as he kicked away.

"Help...? Wade!" He heard Kim say, her body jumping slightly with a start; she began to look around frantically. When she spied the KPS she seized it. "Wade," she said, desperation in her face. "I've lost the cab. Is there any way to track that cab? Satellite? Spysats? GPS?" Wade's fingers flew across the air for a moment then he turned to the red-head.

"Sorry Kim. Nothing's in the area. The only thing I know is what the ACME Cab database says: the cab's headed right to the airport." Kim's face was taking on a greyish cast that was beginning to freak out the already disturbed Wade. "Uh, Kim? Why were you chasing that cab..."

"She left. She left and I don't know... was it me? Did I do something... or not,...? She left, and I, I..." Tears flowed out in earnest now.

_This isn't good_, Wade thought. Over the weeping girl's shoulder, he could see people stopping to stare or comment. Okay, first we gotta get her off the street. _What was it that momma always said when I had a migraine? Yeah, the world will look different after a good night's rest. Okay, let's get her home before she has a meltdown in the middle of the street._

"Kim?" The tears continued to fall. No response. "Kim!" Wade shouted. Kim put her hands to her mouth but a whimper still made it out of her mouth.

"Y-Yeah," she said her voice hitching.

"Listen to me. You hear me? Nod if you hear me." Kim nodded slowly as she hiccuped. "You're going to go home. Go home, shower and then get into bed. You hear that? Home, shower, bed!"

"Home, shower, bed," Kim repeated slowly. "Yeah... I... got it." She stood up and the camera's field of vision swung sickeningly as Kim's hand continued to hold the KPS, her arm completely limp.

_Oh, snap_, Wade thought. He opened a number of new virtual windows; one displaying a map with Kim's GPS signal, the others, catalogs of snippets of code. He started pulling code from folders with his hands in his virtual space, piecing them together like a Lego sculpture of a fractal image. He glanced at the GPS tracker map.

"Kim! Kim!" he yelled. "Turn around, you're going the wrong way! Turn around! Stop, and turn,- yeah that's right go that way!" He continued to frantically piece together the code blocks. One last look and he threw it into a virtual garbage bin labeled "EXECUTE". Immediately, a window opened in his field of vision, displaying a map to Kim's home overlaid with stop light signals and the representation of cars.

"Kim, turn left! Left! Okay, now wait. WAIT! Don't cross yet... okay! Go! Cross!"

She moved at a slow shuffling pace, like a sleepwalking zombie. The camera snaked out, the lens mounted on the end of a flexible metal tube, and pointed at her face. From the low vantage point, he could see the exhausted silhouette of the hero against the bright blue sky and the tears falling from her chin. She had chased the cab for almost ten miles in the span of fifteen minutes, but with the adrenaline draining from her, her emotional state was quickly becoming critical.

It took a full hour for Wade to guide Kim back to her apartment.

As she shuffled up the stairs to her floor, Wade began piecing more code together. By the time she reached her apartment door, Wade had three full code blocks ready. He snatched a bluish block and tossed it into the "execute" bin. The door unlocked itself and opened wide, then closed itself behind the girl as she collapsed onto the floor of the tiny apartment.

It took another thirty minutes to get Kim into the shower. Wade commanded, wheedled, coaxed and nagged at the girl to take off her clothes and get in the shower. Every five minutes he checked his tracking report on Shego. Each time Wade returned to check on her Kim had not moved, still slumped over just inside her apartment door. Wade decided it was time to use the Shower Program. He picked up the code block he'd painted pink and tossed it into the execute bin.

A light blue field surrounded the KPS and it levitated up, three tentacled claws emerging and helping Kim out of her clothing. Wade's program ran automatically with emailed updates as it moved from task to task. The KPS pulled the naked girl toward the shower. It then turned on the shower and tested the water. When it reached the programmed threshold temperature, the small device pulled the practically comatose Kim into the stall, shut the curtain behind her and picked up Kim's loofah. The red-head hardly reacted, barely registering the slightly coolish water by slowly blinking. When the loofah stung her scrapes she didn't even twitch. It was as if her usual fiery spirit had simply left her body, leaving behind a listless unmotivated shell.

Afterward, the KPS led the dripping Kim out, toweled her down and picked up the hairdryer and did her hair. By the time it tucked Kim into bed, Wade was fairly sure he had lost any trace of Shego.

While Kim was getting her shower, Wade had been alerted that the cab had called in to dispatch for a new assignment. He picked up Shego's image, hacking into the airport camera security via an unsuspecting employee's cellphone. It took him several minutes to find her since she'd gotten off in the private hangar guardhouse and not the commercial departure area. She entered hangar 69 and after several minutes, one of Drakken's old hovercrafts appeared, then rapidly disappeared when a cloaking device was engaged. Wade sighed and wiped his face with his hands. Kim wasn't going to like that.

Wade's computer played a chime, the KPS reporting back that it had tucked the girl in. He sighed, tossing the last code block into the execute bin. This would keep the KPS scanning Kim throughout the night, taking her vitals every twenty minutes and alerting him if she woke from sleep and left the bed.

With that done, Wade was at somewhat of a loss. How had he failed to realize the depth of Kim's attachment to the plasma-wielding woman? He'd seen the way she was on the Oil Rig, but then that was only yesterday... he hadn't even really settled his mind about tracking the helicopter that got away.

He wandered out of his room into the corridor, then out the door at the opposite end; it hissed closed behind him. He walked up teal green stairs and stopped at the doorway to the kitchen. Inside, a dark haired woman sat at a small kitchen table, sipping tea and reading the latest Omni magazine.

"Momma, I got a friend who got her heart broken. What can I do to help her?" Wade's mother looked up in surprise. He could see his mother's brain working like a cruise missile, fast and low. Wade knew his mother might not be a genius like himself, but she was quick witted, smart-mouthed and had lived almost three times his age, so she had to know something he didn't. She put the magazine down and stared at him for a moment more.

"Baby, if her heart's broken for real, there ain't nothin' in God's good earth that can heal it 'cept the one that done broke it." Wade thought about it for a moment.

"But momma, it's like someone's torn out who she is and left nothing behind. She just lies there." Wade's mother took a sip of her tea, set down the cup and spoke.

"Then you gotta shock her spirit back in. A good shock, one she'd have to react to." Wade thought for a moment. A good shock,... like a surprise? Wade slowly smiled.

"Thanks momma, you're a genius!" He kissed her cheek and ran back to his room. He didn't need to look back to know he'd made her smile. He needed to prep the big gun if he really needed it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next day, the KPS flew to Kim's side. Her eyes were open, but she simply stared at the wall beside her bed, tears staining the sheet. The scanner flashed and bathed Kim in blue light. Every twenty minutes, the KPS scanned her and emailed a report to Wade.

He'd never seen Kim this down and out, even after her break-up with Ron. She'd ranted, raved, broke things (thankfully the KPS was made of a nearly unbreakable alloy). But she never seemed to lack,... life for a better word. This time was different. She couldn't even seem to muster the strength to answer her phone, let alone the KPS. Eating and sleeping had been pushed aside for the unfathomable relief of unconsciousness. And it was freaking him out. It was definitely time for the big gun, he thought as he typed on his virtual keyboard.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kim woke, but didn't move. Someone was inside her apartment, moving stealthily. A bit clumsy. Then she registered something else, the smell of bacon and eggs. Well, if they were bad guys and they wanted to kill her they didn't have to go through the trouble of making her food. She turned away from the noise. A chair scraped, footsteps approached the bed and a weight settled at the edge of the bed.

"How ya' feeling, hero?" Kim's eyes opened. She turned toward the voice, her eyes red and puffy.

"Mo',...? What...?"

"Alive and kickin' I see. C'mon, let's get some grub into that big round face of yours." The black girl hauled Kim to a sitting position. Kim didn't protest, shocked into compliance at her friend's sudden appearance. She led Kim to her couch, where a plate of eggs and bacon sat. She put a fork in Kim's hand.

"Eat. C'mon babygirl, listen to Monique." Monique watched Kim until she started eating. At the first bite, Kim's stomach rumbled loudly and she realized how hungry she really was. Monique nodded and then bent down to take a glass bottle of Norwegian artesian water out of a stylish overnight bag. Then she sat down beside Kim and drank as the red-head finished the plate.

Monique had always been a snappy dresser and today was no exception. Her naturally curly hair was done up in a high piled bun wrapped in braids, with locks framing her face. She had a pair of stylish horn-rimmed metal spectacles on; a single button hip hugging waist length grey pin-stripe suit with a loose pale yellow blouse beneath. She had matching pinstriped loose-legged pants.

"Mo', what are you doing here," Kim spoke around her second egg.

"Lookin' out for my BFF, that's what. Wade was freakin' out about you, so I hopped TWA and flew down to see just what exactly that keyboard jockey was going on about." Kim's fork froze, her eyes wide.

"Wade,... called you?"

"Well, texted me."

"Did he,... did he say anything else?"

"That you just got dumped and was falling apart. That was all I needed to know to come and have my girl's back."

"Oh..." Kim was awash with a mixture of disappointment and relief.

"I don't know what happened, but girl, it ain't like you to just take something like that."

"But to just leave like that. Not a care in the world." Monique sighed for a moment.

"Kim. I love you like a sista, but sometimes you are quick as a stick in the mud."

"Huh?" Kim's eyes narrowed slightly.

"If this person you've been chasin' was gonna drop you, why bother even saying goodbye? A playa like that would just get and go."

"Uh,..." Kim's suddenly hopeful face was painful to watch.

"So you gotta know where you stand here. You can either play victim, 'oh, help me, I got played, whatever shall I do' or you chase this S.O.B down and find out W.T.F.I.G.O. Or at least get down low."

"I, uh,-" Kim's natural reactions were starting to come to the fore. She'd never played the victim, because she'd never seen herself as one. Was she going to start now?

"Yeah, you've never let anyone beat you down, so don't you start now." Kim was quiet for a few long moments.

"You're right Mo'," she said slowly. "I've always been a bit of a klutz in the social department; I mean, Bonnie worked the scene in high school; I just got by on rep. But I've always known what I wanted. And right now, I want to know what's going on!"

Monique smiled as Kim spoke.

"Yea, yea, that's what I'm talkin' about. And Wade's got a message for you. Drew Lipsky's next stop is in Middleton tomorrow, but the green girl hasn't been seen there."

"Really? Thank you Wade! I should call him and-" Kim's eyes narrowed a bit. "Wait a minute! You just said,... Mon! Just what did Wade say to you?" Monique shrugged.

"Just that you got dumped by a certain plasma powered ex-villain and might need some TLC. I told him, 'Kim don't need no TLC, she needs a dose of MPT.'" Monique wished she had a camera for the emotions that ran through Kim's face: mortification, embarrassment, a bit of outrage and anger, and finally, a bit of worry.

"Well, Monique's Pep Talks have always worked for me,..." Kim gave a small wry smile, then turned serious. "Uh,... it doesn't... bother you,... does it?"

"You've always needed a firm hand, and mine's probably better than most."

"No, I mean,... gawd this is _**-so-**_ the drama... that,... uh..." Kim's face flushed a beet red. Mon stared at her until she dipped her head, her unruly red hair falling forward and hiding her face. "That, I, uh..."

"Huh?" Monique suddenly understood what Kim was worried about. "Kim, look at me. Yeah, let me see those itty bitty greens." Kim looked up, sucking her lips into a thin compressed line of anxiety. "Girl, do you have _**-any-**_ idea what industry I'm in?" Kim nodded. "Even if you're _**-not-**_ gay, you gotta _**-act-**_ gay. And sometimes, people look at you weird when you tell them to back off because you don't play for their team. Besides, Kim, you'd _**-know-**_ if I had an issue with your orientation; besides you've always been into the different anyway."

"What?!" Kim's face was a mortified bright red.

"Well, y'know, you've had some weird dates. I mean, it all started with that Josh "I'm-so-cool" Mankey. Then you actually went wack on yours truly for Hiro, the transfer from Japan. Then you carried on all over the place with Eric the synthodrone and then kissed your best childhood friend the night the Sack-of-Ooze sprung a leak; girl, don't know how you could do that, it's gotta be like me kissin' my brother. What's weird about adding a plasma throwing girl to the list?" Kim giggled a bit at the end, her nerves starting to unwind. Monique smiled. She had been a bit worried with that little part of the plan, including the list. She wasn't sure where Kim was at with the Ron thing, but judging from Wade's frantic answers to her questions, this was much, much heavier. Well, it was time for action.

"So, babygirl, you gotta get Wade something ka-razy for Christmas, because he's rustled us up a flight to MIA. And it leaves to two hours."

"Yeah? Okay... okay! Give me twenty minutes and we are outta here!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kim clamped down on her urge to fidget. She knew that when she was agitated, she would fidget, either with her fingers, hands, knees or feet. She kept her fidgeting to a minimum. She didn't want to disturb her friend who was sleeping next to her. She was sitting in the middle seat in the coach section of a commercial aeroplane. Monique occupied the window seat to her left; the scenery of the bright blue expanse was wasted on her. The black girl, after thirty minutes of fighting yawns, begged to get some sleep having taken a late night flight to give Kim a piece of her mind. She was currently curled up in her seat, snoring lightly with her mouth wide open. Kim, who had slept the entire previous day in her emotional funk was bursting at the seams with energy.

Before they'd left, Kim had beeped Wade and effusively thanked the dark skinned boy until his ears flushed and he stammered out that it wasn't a problem. He then rushed them out the door, where a cab was waiting to take them to the local airport.

Kim decided to occupy her time with drawing up a plan of action. Drew was going to appear in Middleton tomorrow, but Wade had said Shego was nowhere to be found in the hero's hometown. That probably meant that the super powered woman might not even be in Middleton yet, so the only time she would definitely be in town would be when Drew arrived. Not only that, she typically followed the flowery blue scientist to the first few welcoming functions. So all Kim needed to do was find out where and when the first few events were and get an invitation to one of them. Which meant she was going to have to get something to wear... Kim glanced over at her friend and smiled. Yeah, she was going to have something kick ass to wear if Monique had anything to do with it.

So what was she going to do while she waited to corner her girl?

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kim groaned as she disembarked, exited the arrivals area, and she saw the answer.

"Hey Kim!"

"Over here, sis!"

Kim's brothers, also known as The Tweebs (twin dweebs) were almost as tall as she was now. Their hair was the same nondescript greyish brown as her father's. But the big shock was how different they seemed from each other. Jim wore a tight black UnderArmor long sleeve over baggy tan cargos and hightop sneakers. His hair was short cropped but spikey. Tim on the other hand wore a tight tan cotton weave long sleeve with stylized wings printed across the side. He wore boot-cut jeans that seemed a bit tight around the hips. His hair fell in long unruly brown locks. At their synchronized outburst, they stopped an glared at each other. Monique's eyes widened at the sight.

"C'mon, Dad's had to go round again."

"Said he'd meet us outside at the pick-up." The tweebs continued to glare at each other.

"Kim... what happened to them?" The black girl whispered, not taking her eyes from the twins who'd stopped to face off against each other. Kim sighed as her brothers started a measured approach.

"Girls." she whispered back. "Well, actually, one girl. A Rockwaller."

"Huh?" Monique kept staring as they arrived.

"Shh. Later, okay?" Kim whispered to Monique, then turned to her brothers. "Hey guys. We better get out there if Dad's coming around again."

They exited the Middleton International Airport into the bright afternoon sun and crossed the taxi lanes to the public pick-up area.

"So hey Kim, you hear about my football scholarship?" Jim said.

"Pfft, scholarship," Tim waved a dismissive hand. "I'll be in the doing the West Coast longboard competition next week. Then it's Caltech."

"Lame-o. They've waived my freshman status just so I can play first string!"

"So what? The Mad Dogs haven't won the state trophy since _**-Ron-**_ was the fullback!"

"Guys, guys!" Kim stepped into the line of fire before fists flew where words had stung. She wrapped her arms around both their necks as they glared at each other "Jim, that's great! Where are you going? And Tim, Caltech? Spankin'! Oh! Here's Dad." As a bronze coloured utility van pulled up, Kim dropped her bag in Tim's arms and went to greet the greying scientist as he stepped out of the driver's seat. She hit him with a hard hug.

"Dad!"

"Whoa, there Kimmie-cub, good to see you too. You're looking peppy as usual." He returned her fierce hug with one of his own. "I missed you at the Junior Rocket Boosters summer camp."

"Sorry Dad. I had a few loose ends to tie up. Besides, you had Jim and Tim, right?" At that, Doctor James Possible's face shifted a bit. "Oh no," Kim said lowering her voice, "that bad?"

James glanced at his sons for a moment and lifted a hand to speak behind it. "You don't know the half of it, and it's driving your mother and I completely crazy!" Kim sighed as she looked over to the tweebs.

Monique had stepped into the space Kim left between the two boys, and had passed her bag to Tim. He took the girls' bags and went to open the trunk.

"Hey Jim, thanks for coming to get us." Kim heard Monique say. Jim stopped glaring at his mirror image.

"No problem, Monique. My pleasure, really." The redhead stared in disbelief as Jim rippled his developing chest muscles under his Under Armor.

"So what position do you play?" At that, he smiled.

"Fullback and Safety. Sometimes receiver." Monique nodded as if impressed, but Kim thought she was a bit amused at her little brother hitting on the black girl. The trunk slammed shut with a dull thump.

"How'd you get from mascot to first string?"

"He exchanged his brain for bone," Tim smirked as he came back around. Jim's eyes darkened dangerously. Kim deftly slid up and took Tim's arm.

"Hey sit in front with me and tell me all about how you got into the tournament!" Kim dragged him over to the front passenger door. She looked back and gave Monique a pleading look. The girl nodded slightly and grabbed Jim, taking him to the back seat. If this was how things were going to be, the ride home was going to be torture.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

For the longest time, she stared over the city in the distance from the crest of a hill, the harbour shimmering with the molten gold of the setting sun as the grass waved gently in the breeze. The air was still warm at the end of August; frogs croaked and roared, calling across the mirror-still waters of the pond in the lee of the hill. Silent and still, shadowed against the skyline, the black haired woman watched as barges docked in the sparkling harbour. In the middle of the water stood a gleaming spear of glass and chrome, shaped in the letters "G" and "O". The woman looked up into the darkening sky and sighed heavily, her hands inside her black leather jacket pockets.

"I don't even know why I'm here," she muttered to herself. But she did know. Here was where it all started. Here was an ending and a beginning. It was her Eden, the spot where she chose to be thrown out of gloriously divine protection into the purgatory that was now her life. It was here that she had buried her heart.

"Sorry. It's been what, three years?" The sun sank lower, bathing her face with fading light, her expression drawn and pensive.

"I wish I could hate you, but I can't. You were just as much a victim as I was." Orange and pink, the sky continued to darken to purple and navy blue. Stars were already beginning to gather and appear for the clear night. The tall lone tree beside her rustled in response.

"I left everything behind because of you, and look how well that turned out." No trail led up the hill to this tree or down from it. It was knurled and knotted, its branches spreading up to the darkening gloom as if to hold back the night. And as the sun sank beneath the undulating waves of the harbour, the dark slammed down, chasing the fleeting remnants of light across the heavens. Soon there was nothing but shadows.

"You broke my heart, but you opened my eyes. You taught me to be _**-me-**_." Satellites ran their celestial courses above, tiny diamond specks that moved with terrestrial motivation. Red lights blinked, airplanes moving sedately across the night sky. In the city, red taillights snaked in and out of the high-rise silhouettes.

"She's just like you. The perfect princess. But I made a promise; I can't break it." The woman wrapped her arms around herself watching the stars dance. A sliver thin burst of light streaked across the sky. She blinked. There for a second, and then gone, burnt to dust. She knelt beside the tree and placed a black gloved hand on a small rock at the base of the trunk.

"I better get going, before that big goof turns on the security scanners at the Tower. I guess I just wanted to say hi." With that Shego turned and stealthily headed down the hill, leaving not a trace in her wake.

On the rock by the tree was a single word, melted into it as if painted by a finger, that read: "Mayumi."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: Okay! All the characters are set. Wade's started to grow up, as are Jim and Tim (I'm just compeltely ignoring the fact that the twins only grew 2 years from Season 1 to Season 4).

Obalglay Usticejay - Pig Latin for Global Justice, if you don't know Pig Latin.

Mayumi - Sometimes translated as "True Bow", but I'm using it as "true purpose beauty"


	10. Chapter 10: In Your Hands

_Interlude_

_You know, I've been in some weird spots, but this was ridiculous; if it wasn't for all the germ swapping, I'd have made millions with that stupid Ray-X. Even if the doofus Drakken hadn't dragged me along, I would have heisted it, no sweat. Of course, Princess would be there. Then she gave me her fucken cold. I have super strength, steel melting plasma and super healing powers. And it took one little _**-sneeze-**_ to put me down for the count?_

_In the end I got rolled by her. Well, rolled up in a rug. Dammit._

_- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -_

_What happens when a lie turns into the truth? Does that still make it a lie? I guess this is where intent becomes key. If I intended to deceive someone, even if it becomes truth, the desire to harm was the motivator. Well, what if I wanted to just hide something?_

_Then Wade calls with a simple guard mish. I rarely turn down missions though I knew mom was going to be way cranked if she found out, but it was just a cold; what could happen? I was feeling like something the dog dragged in._

_When Shego turned up to steal Ray-X, I decided to get all my sneezes out before hitting the security button; and then the rumble was _**-on-**_! Just going fist to fist with Shego made me feel a thousand times better, but then I slipped and she fell on top of me... on top of me... her weight pressing tightly against me. I looked up and all I could think of was how much I wanted to see what those lips tasted like... how ashamed and turned on I was..._

_So I just backed off, letting her keep my hands pinned and made up the story of having to sneeze. But then suddenly, I gave it to her good. She got to taste my mouth and I didn't even get a kiss out of it!_

_- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -_

**Chapter Ten: Into Your Hands**

In the dark, he clasps his hands together before his baleful gaze.

A young man, little more than a boy, scrabbles against the smooth floor as if he can escape the gaze, his fingers scraping bloody streaks, his nails cracked and broken in his desperation. He cannot move, as if pinned by some unseen force. Sweat pours down his terror contorted face.

Dei, his black muscles rippling, flows forward and seizes the back of the man's neck. He lifts him up with one hand, his fingers digging into the muscles, paralysing the scream before it rises. The man struggles as the dark, one-eyed figure approaches, filling his wide eyed gaze. Hands like black iron shift and holds his head aside, immobilizing him, pinning his arms.

The man whimpers.

In an instant, the squat muscular figure closes the distance. Teeth tears into the exposed neck. For long moments, only the sounds of slurping, splattering and choked cries fill the air. Dei stands still as a rock as the struggles weaken and cease. Tien, still lounging on a couch watches languidly from lowered eyelids.

A moment more and he steps back, spitting flesh on the ground and breaking into a bloody grin. He walks over to his chair and without turning presses a button. A hole opens beneath the corpse and Dei releases his hold dropping it through the chute. The tall lanky black man flicks his hand and blood splatters after the body; he then moves with animal grace, standing like an attentive panther beside his master.

The man with one eye wipes his mouth with the back of his glove and speaks.

"Come."

From the shadows of the room emerge five figures. The masks covering their faces are marked with a black triangular grill, the apex beginning at the bridge of their nose and covering their jawline, the silver casings of their goggle-like lenses glinting in the dim light. Tall and muscular, red, orange, blue, green and purple.

"Ms. Flanner's device is complete. Now shall we begin in earnest." He turns and surveys the masked faces, then breaks into a congealing smile. "In forty-eight hours, we shall have all the pieces we will need to start phase three." The five figures do not move or speak. "You have your orders."

"Go."

_- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -_

Kim and Monique were exhausted by the time the Possible house came into view. Jim and Tim were completely intractable in their antagonism against each other. Mister Doctor Possible simply stayed out of the conversation as Kim and Monique deftly kept the two teens engaged with separate conversations, leaving them no room to throw their verbal jabs at each other. Kim simply couldn't believe that her once joined-at-the-brain twin baby brothers seemed all but ready to tear each other's throats out like rabid wolves.

"Kimmie!" Doctor Anne Possible stepped out the door as the utility van pulled up in the driveway. James stopped the car and killed the engine, popping the trunk as he slid out of the car. Kim jumped out of the car and Anne hugged her little girl. She was surprised how her girl had grown while she'd been away. Kim was a little bit of a later bloomer than most, but her head was now higher than Anne's shoulders. Anne smiled and held Kim at arms length, then ruffled her hair playfully. Monique dragged Jim to the trunk to get their bags.

"Mom!" Kim ducked, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Tim," James called as Jim and Monique walked up, "could you park the car? I've got to help your mother finish up dinner."

"Monique, great to see you," Anne said warmly giving the black girl a hug as Kim took the girl's bag and gave it to Tim.

"Thanks, Missus Doctor P," Monique returned the hug. James came around the car and put his hand on Anne's waist.

"C'mon little lady, I think we need to check on that brain loaf!" He steered her toward the house.

"Dinner will be in about an hour and a half!" she called out as they disappeared into the house.

"Your parents are sooo cute!" Monique laughed as the two disappeared into the house.

"Uh, actually, Jim, could you take me and Monique to the bazaar before they close? I need her to help me pick out some material." Kim plucked the bag from Jim's grasp and passed it to Tim as Monique stepped back.

"Say what?" She stared at Kim, lifting her hands up as if the red-head was holding a knife. "Oh no. No! We just got off a five hour flight, girl! And before that I was on a red-eye. A red-eye! You know how nasty and gross it is on a red-eye?"

"Please Mo', I really need your help on this," Kim approached the suddenly skittish fashion diva. The fashionable girl cross her arms,

"Nuh-uh! You're on your own with that one, babygirl. I got your hero butt on the plane. The rest is up to you!" Jim and Tim looked on in amusement.

"But Mo', you're soooo good at making dresses! Pretty please?" Mon suddenly turned around, suspecting the red-head was about to unleash the fury on her.

"No! And don't you..." she stopped as she felt the ultimate will-draining power of the puppy dog pout emanating from Kim. "Gah!" Kim's eyes grew round and soulful, her lower lip protruded, quivering ever so slightly. The twins, not being the focus of the pout, still felt its will draining power even with their eyes shielded by uplifted hands.

"Must... resist... can't let her.... win!" Monique put her hands to her head.

"C'mon Monique, just give in, before she goes nuclear!" Jim called, "I'll spring for dessert!" Tim had already retreated to the safety of the interior, escaping as quickly as he could. The dark skinned girl turned around and opened one eye, studiously avoiding Kim's pout.

"Dimitri's?" Jim suddenly looked worried, then slumped his shoulders in defeat. "Yeah, Dimitri's," he sighed. Kim's pout disappeared in an instant and the two girls grinned.

"Spankin'!" they said together as they high-fived.

_- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -_

"Okay girlfriend, I'm cutting patterns for you, so you'd better entertain me!" Monique said as Kim came up through the stairs leading to her room. Things hadn't changed here at least, Kim thought. Her parents had ruled her room off limits while she was at college and had draped heavy sheets over everything. So when Kim returned, they simply whisked the sheets back into the linen closet and the returning hero had her attic loft back to herself again.

Monique was hunched over shimmering bolts of royal purple rough silk with flowers embroidered in gold thread, some thin black silk and some black velvet, marking the fabric lightly with a crayon in her hand. Beside her on the table was a pair of fabric shears along with a bolt of black French lace. Several lengths of stiff black leather strips sat under a bolt of black tulle. Kim still couldn't believe what she saw when Monique had gotten going with the merchants at the bazaar. They had haggled for nearly thirty minutes before shaking hands. If Kim had thought Monique was good at bargain hunting, she was seeing a whole new side of the girl.

Dinner had been a strange mixture of relaxed tension. Kim's mom and dad were obviously glad to have company to distract the twins and to blunt the edge of their ongoing feud, but after a few slices of brain loaf and dessert from Dimitri's, Kim and Monique excused themselves. They changed into their pyjamas: Kim into a grey low crop shirt with a pink trim, a pink heart print on the chest and pink cotton yoga pants, Monique into a red and black football jersey and black training shorts. As Monique dashed off some sketches, Kim dug up an old Singer sewing machine her mother had secreted away in the basement and returned with it and a few spools of black thread.

"So, the tweebs. Spill!" Kim put the sewing machine down on the ground by the table and moved to sit on her bed.

"You know how the tweebs were the new Mad Dog mascots after Ron became the all-star running back for the team, right? Well, we graduated and moved on. The boys were all set to go back to being the pups and they showed for the first cheer squad meeting. But when they get there, there's a new cheerleader."

"Don't even need to guess. Rockwaller."

"Yeah. Bonnie's cousin, Tawnya Rockwaller. She hooked Jim good that night. He wanted to impress her so he thought he'd pull a Ron, become a football hero and join the team. He pushed himself hard. Tim thought it would just blow over like all the other crushes, but when Jim told him he was going to tryout for the team and quit mascot.... Well, let's just say it wasn't pretty. They had a huge blow out; they said a lot of things they shouldn't have from what mom and dad were willing to tell me." Monique leaned back and put down the crayon before reaching for the shears.

"Wow. Twins. They must've really pushed each other's buttons for it to get this bad." Kim sighed.

"Yeah, they were so close, and now..." Kim shook her head. "Tim took it really hard. And things haven't been the same since. It's weird seeing them like this. I'm so used to seeing them together, always with their secret language, 'Hoo-sha'."

"They're graduating and they're only sixteen..." Kim shook her head again.

"They're trying to beat each other, as if they could show that the other was wrong by being better." Monique started to cut strips out of the purple silk.

"How good are you with that Singer?" Monique nodded at the sewing machine.

"Who do you think mends my mission clothes?" Kim replied.

"Good, gonna have to put in your bit for this, honey," Monique smiled. "Can't believe Jim made the team though."

"Hey, they're geniuses," Kim shrugged. "I mean look at me. If I applied myself to all the geekdom they did, I'd be halfway to a Ph. D. already."

"You were always a genius, Kim. I mean who else could do missions half their waking day and still be a straight A student? Didn't you graduate with a four-point-oh GPA?"

"Enh, it was no big. I could have graduated earlier too, but I wanted some sort of high school life." Kim lay back and stared at the ceiling.

"So how'd Tim get into surfing? I mean, we're out in the middle of the Hicksville, America."

"Tim was telling me that with Jim always gone for dates or practise, he had a lot of time on his hands. He went to a local wave pool to test some fluid mechanics and met some other boys surfing there. He made a couple of friends, designed some boards that the kids seemed to really like and got into boarding to test his boards. He's really only going to show off the boards."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Girl, did you say 'dates'? So Jim is dating a _**-Rockwaller-**_?"

"Seems like it. I haven't met the girl, but if she's anything like Bonnie, yeah, it would be just sick and wrong."

"Wow. You leave home for eighteen months and nothing's the same." Monique's hands continued to flash the shears through fabric. She was quick and precise; lengths of silk strips were beginning to pile up. "Girl, you owe me _**-big-**_ for this. I just hope it looks right."

"Mo' you are the best designer I know, and I know a few! I totally trust you." Kim hesitated. "But, do you need to call anyone?"

Monique looked up. "Yeah, as if I wanted my deadbeat Dad to know I was back in town. I'm here because of you, so you're putting me up for the night."

"Mo', you know you're always welcome here."

"Yeah, I know," Monique looked back down. "Just, y'know, I don't wanna think about that scrub, even if he is my dad."

"So what are we looking at here?" Kim asked, picking up one of Monique's sketches.

"It says 'you're gonna think I'm a dead sexy goth while my boot is in your ass.'" Monique smirked.

"Mo'!" Kim swatted at her friend who just laughed. Kim giggled as she looked at the sketch. "Oh my gosh, it really does say that! This is really cool, Mo!"

"Well then girlfriend, you better fire up that Singer, we've got a long night ahead of us!"

_- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -_

Betty was sure that the room was soundproofed enough for her to curse out the Chair. It had been almost ten hours since she had sat down to work on "The Problem" and the files continued to pile up as she requested more and more information from her various departments. Matilde had been in and out of her office almost constantly as she called for hard copies of specific reports. The more she worked on "The Problem", the more frustrated she felt. When she had woken up from The Couch, her mind was buzzing with the thought that she was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle; namely Jack Hench's refusal to disclose which of his facilities had been burglarized. Based on what Hench had given them, the facilities hit had all been Atlantic coastal facilities, but that particular notion was clearly an assumption. It could even be a mis-direction and the reason why Hench, with all his resources, was unable to locate or defend against the transgressors.

Several stacks of reports ringed her raised monitor that displayed a large number of opened windows. All her trays had been put on hold and her desk was now covered with files.

Betty sighed as she sat back, closing her notebook with a tired hand. Clearly she needed additional information that would not magically materialize. The logistical leads that had been provided by Shego's information was still going to take some time to dig up. A pistol found on the oil rig had been purchased legally by Hench Co. and was the first solid evidence of how large "The Problem" was turning out to be.

Whatever the final objectives were, it was meticulously planned and executed. The colour coded operatives could not be the run of the mill super villains that Team Possible tackled; the lack of respect for life was more inline with other more serious departments, such as the GJ Anti-Terrorism Bureau. Yet three of Kim's major files had already been touched by "The Problem": WEE, Triple-S and Dementor. Betty sighed preparing to begin from a different tack.

She glanced over at the Couch and smiled. A pool of blonde hair poked out of the comforter spread over a gently breathing form. Vivian had wandered into the office around Betty's lunch hour and collapsed onto the lushly upholstered chaise without a word, the back of her hand glowing. Betty had to retrieve the comforter herself and tuck the beautiful scientist in. What has her little genius been working on?

She turned back to her raised monitor with a raised eyebrow. The single greatest commonality between most of Team Possible's files was scientific genius. Where scientific genius was the target, there was groundwork being laid for a large-scale operation of international proportions; right where Global Justice's mandate lived. And with several weeks between the Fiske Auditorium and Gulf Oil Rig files, coupled with "The Problem", that operation was well underway.

"So... the question is just how far behind are we?" Betty mused.

Betty immediately noted red text as it scrolled across her monitor. Her eye opened wide. Blood drained from her face. It read, "Landline to Omega Facility has been compromised at 00:53 GMT."

"Oh _**-fuck-**_," Betty cursed uncharacteristically as she opened her top left drawer. Inside was a hand scanner. She pressed her had down, not even twitching as a needle slid into her wrist and extracted blood. The scanner flashed green and as she lifted her hand, slid into the recesses of the drawer to reveal a large red button, which she immediately pressed. A chime sounded, signalling that her voice was being patched through to all facilities and comlinks on the Global Justice network.

"Attention," she said. Outside she could hear her voice being echoed by the emergency alarm speakers throughout the headquarters. "We have an Omega Priority One Alert. This is _**-not-**_ a drill. I repeat, we have an Omega Priority One Alert. All Assault Leaders are to recall all offsite squad members and assemble in full combat gear at their designated areas. All leaves, holidays and vacations are immediately cancelled. All active Commanders to The War Chest in ten minutes. All facilities are immediately to go into assault lockdown. Once again we have an Omega Priority One Alert."

"Mmmfff? Ducky," came a sleepy voice. "Whuz goin' on?"

Betty looked up, a dangerous glint in her eye.

"The shit just hit the fan."

_- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -_

"And just where are you going, young man?"

Kim groaned as the voice of her father pierced her sleep-fogged mind. She could hear Jim's voice, muffled and indistinct.

"Your sister has just come back and you're planning to go out?"

"Well, I'd invite Tawnie here, but you know what that's not going to happen!" Jim's voice was now reaching her. Kim flopped over onto her front, causing a moan from someone else on the bed. Kim cracked open her eye seeing a lump under the sheets. Monique was laid out beside her. Kim was lying with her head at the foot of the bed, Monique the other way. A pillow was jammed under the black girl's head. Below, the voices lowered but were even more heated.

They had worked together until five in the morning. Kim's fingers were killing her and her vision was blurring before Monique told her to go to sleep and "let the pro show why she's the M.F.Q." Not sure what that meant, Kim simply collapsed on top of her comforter and went right to sleep. She raised her head, trying to focus on the clock on the bedside table by the black designer and then gasped. The clock read three-thirty.

"Aw, man!" Kim groaned and jumped out of bed. She wobbled a bit, then rushed to the washroom her parents had installed in her loft. After a rushed five-minute shower, Kim was out in her robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. She fished out her KPS from her bag and hit the call button. While she waited for Wade to answer, Kim began applying a sparkling royal purple to her toenails.

"Hey Kim!" Wade's voice was cheerful.

"Hey Wade, how's the Shego watch?" Kim glanced that the KPS. Wade was wearing his virtual goggles and gloves again. She smiled and shook her head as he moved his hands around.

"She picked up Drakken a couple of hours ago from Middleton International and they're at the Regency Hotel, the one just down your street, right now. They've ordered up a couple of lint brushes and sent a suit down for emergency dry cleaning. Looks like they're getting ready for the meet-and-greet tonight at Middleton U."

"Great! You have the floor plan?"

"Yup. Here they are. They're holding it at six-thirty in the Mercury Building." A small lens protruded and a holographic image appeared above the small device. Kim finished with her toes and began applying a sparkling black polish to her fingers as she studied the image. Two small heads, one blue, one green, had arrows pointing at two seats on the raised platform, indicating seat assignments.

"Okay. I'm going to show up during Drew's speech. I bet Shego's probably going to be up on stage. She'll want that vantage point to watch for villains who could show up at any time. I'll let her catch a glimpse of me; I'll disappear until they have refreshments. Then I'll pin her at the bar. Wade, you have my invite?"

"I've added you name to the list, and the card should be there in a moment; you should be able to get in no problem." Downstairs, the doorbell rang. "That should be it now."

"You rock Wade! Thanks!" Kim giggled and she began painting gold and white petalled flowers on her toes.

"Okay, later Kim." The KPS beeped as Wade cut the connection.

A groan sounded behind her. "Are you guys done?" grumbled Monique. "I need some serious down time right now."

"Mo', dress?" The girl pointed her hand without getting up. Kim turned toward her closet and gasped.

The purple and gold silk strips had been plaited into panels of a black leather trimmed corset, reinforced by more leather. The back was intricately laced, with the silk strips molded into an intricate butterfly obi. Four flowing ribbons of silk hung down the back. On a separate hanger was a black suede off the shoulder tube top, with sleeves that changed from suede at the elbows to flowing parted silk that hung a meter down. The last piece was a puffy silk, diamond-tiered, short skirt that flared out with a wealth of black tulle beneath. It was scallop trimmed with black lace. An inch thick, lace-trimmed silk choker was the finishing touch.

"Mo'..." Kim whispered. "Mo' you're the best!" Kim shrieked and jumped on the girl, hugging her fiercely. Monique raised her hands, trying to pry off the enthusiastic girl. "That is so ferociously hot!"

"Kiiim.... air..." Monique gasped. Kim simply laughed and jumped off the bed. She seized the dress and held it up, twirling. The sleeves fluttered in a circle.

"Kimmie-cub?" James' voice floated up from downstairs.

"Yeah Dad?" Kim called down, putting down the dress and fixing her bathrobe.

"You got an courier envelope down here, I'll put it by the stairs!"

"'Kay, thanks!" A pillow struck Kim in the side and she turned. Monique was already lying down.

"C'mon, let... girl... sleep...!" she begged.

"Sorry Mo'."

"You're on your own for shoes and hose. Don't wear fishnets! It's so tacky..." Kim smiled.

"Thanks Mo'."

Kim went downstairs to give Monique some more time to rest. On the first floor, she found her father sitting at the kitchen table, fiddling with his handheld. He looked up as Kim came in. After pouring herself a mug of milk, she sat down.

"Hey sleepy-head," her father smiled. "Late night?"

"Yeah. Monique was helping me out with a dress that I need for tonight. Where's Mom?"

"Emergency call; said she'll be back by dinner though. Feel up to hitting the old Ranchero Rodrigez tonight?"

"Uh, sorry Dad. The dress Monique was helping me with was for... a mission I've got tonight..." Kim looked away. _Well, it was sort of a mission_, Kim temporized in her head.

"It's not with some boy, is it?" James sent a sharp look at his daughter.

"Dad! No." _No, not a boy..._ "And even if it was, I'm over eighteen."

James sighed, giving Kim a surreptitious glance.

"Yeah, but you'll always be my little Kimmie-cub. Ah well, it's for the best I suppose..." James rubbed his chin. "Jim's out with Tawnie anyway. Hmmm. With Tim getting ready for his longboard competition, it'll be just your mother and I," a slow smile began to form on his lips. Kim nearly choked and sprayed her milk everywhere. She forced her mouthful down.

"Whoa, Dad, stop right there. I don't wanna know!" Kim gasped out.

"But Kimmie-cub, you're an adult now. You probably know that your mother and I-" James teased.

"No, you're not! C'mon Dad, I just don't wanna hear about how freaky you guys are, okay?" James laughed at the flustered look on Kim's face as she gulped down the rest of her milk.

"Alright, Kimmie. Anything you need before you go?" Kim glanced at the clock.

"Whoa! Yeah, more time to get ready!" With that, Kim pounded up the stairs to find shoes and hose.

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Kim was ready.

She'd opted for a pair of simple low ponytails that complimented the flowing sleeves and ribbons, but had her front bangs loose and brushed to the side, covering an eye.

The corset felt bulky with the leather panels and ribs, but when she looked at the mirror it looked outrageously formfitting, and was perfectly tailored. Kim stood at her full-length mirror and twirled just to see the ribbons and sleeves swirl around her. On her feet she wore stylishly shiny open-toe three-inch heels that had a sculpted rounded look. She'd added a bit of red to her eye shadow, making it a little darker than usual to add to the look.

Kim turned to her friend who was sitting at her desk.

"How do I look?" she asked.

"Girl, you are one badass Chinese goth princess!" Monique was admiring her work. The shapes she'd chosen were cut perfectly to Kim's anatomy. The corset was rough, but the suede shirt underneath cushioned Kim's skin, and, being a corset, pushed up the girl's tiny bust like a push-up bra. The black girl noted that Kim had grown since the last time she'd designed something for the red-head; namely, the hero's last mission clothes. Kim's inseam measurements were a few inches more than before. Soon, she'd be a younger image of her mother; the fashion designer wondered if she'd be able to get Kim to model for her.

"Mo', you _**-are-**_ a great designer," Kim smiled as checked the contents of a black leather wristlet. Monique had remembered that Kim would need to carry a few mission essentials such as lipstick (laser, goop and normal), pocket spritzer (sleep and normal) and zip-line compact. She'd made a leather wristlet that could be secreted away under the obi for just those things. Kim frowned as she attempted to put on the wrist Kimmunicator, her longer nails making it awkward.

"Here, let me," Monique said, getting to her feet. She took hold of the tiny device and slid the straps into place. "Kim?" Monique asked as she released the girl's hand and sat back down.

"Yeah, Mo'?" Monique waited until Kim looked at her before continuing.

"This is what you want, right? This isn't your B.O.W. making you chase this girl, is it?" Monique stared into Kim's sea green eyes. Kim sat down on her bed, thought for a moment, then shook her head.

"No, Mo'. This is way beyond "Bitch On Wheels" mode. I know when I'm feeling competitive, but this isn't it, it's not the same. I don't know, I've never felt this way before."

"And you've never let anyone get a second kick at the can."

"Yeah. Even with Ron, I just sort of.... let him go. Played passive, like a good girl should. Even my plan... it was all just really girly girl type stuff. Let it go and it'll come back? Pfft!" Kim waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, maybe in movies like Serendipity! It just felt... so... _**-right-**_ when she and I were together."

Then Kim's face froze for a moment.

"Mo'... what if she... really.... doesn't want me... or this..." Kim's worried face made Monique smile.

"Girl, with you in Miss Monique's Hunting Gear, ain't no way in hell that girl's getting away!"

"Hunting Gear?" Kim laughed. "Yeah. And Mo'. Thanks."

"Nuthin' doin' girlfriend. Now you get out there and reel in that fire green fish of yours!"

"Okay!" The girls got up and started down the stairs.

"Inventory check! Got your invite?"

"Yup."

"Laser Lipstick?"

"Check."

"Goop Lipstick?"

"Yup."

"Kissy Girl knock out gas?"

"Uh-hunh."

"Mini field glasses? Zip-line Compact? Condoms?"

"Check, check and... Mo'!" Kim punched the girl in the shoulder. Monique just laughed it off.

"Jus' playin' with ya, Kim." As they reached the front door, Kim gave the girl a hug.

"Thanks again, Mo'."

"N.P., K.P. I always gotcha back."

"Kimmie?" James asked. He came around to the front door and then stood there staring at Kim's outfit. "And just where do _**-you-**_ think you're going, young lady?"

"I'm going to a mission at Middleton U. There's someone I gotta stop. It's a high-class function, so..." Kim gestured at her dress.

"Alright..." James said dubiously. "Just be careful, and nail that villain!" Monique turned away, choking on her laughter. James moved over to her and patted her back even as she held up her hand.

"Thanks Dad," Kim said, with a wry smile. At that moment, a heavy thump on the front door made the three of them jump. They stared at the source of the noise for a moment.

"Expecting a ride, Kimmie?" James frowned.

"Nope. Get back Dad, let me see who it is." James and Monique backed away a few steps. Kim strode over to the door and yanked it open.

Swaying on the welcome mat was a tall dark shadow. On his head was a black mullet with a receding hairline. An old scar ran across one cheek. His broad shoulders were slumped, his sunken eyes bloodshot. He was leaning one hand against the door; Kim saw the other was held against a vicious gash across the front of his nicely tailored suit. Blood dripped through his fingers.

"Drew!" gasped James.

"Kim... Possible..." the blue man gasped as he staggered through the doorframe, his yellow petals wilted, the vine trailing loose on the ground. Drew Lipsky, formerly known as Doctor Drakken, seized Kim's hand. "Save... Shego... she stayed... gave time... to escape..." with that he fell to the ground in a faint, blood leaking slowly from ragged cuts on his face and arms.

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_A/N: See? I told you there'd be blood.  
_


	11. Chapter 11: Ground Zero

Disclaimer: Haven't done one in a while, so...

Kim Possible and all related characters are owned by Disney. I own Tien and Dei.

Again, thanks to catrlgirl and Nikkou for beta work.

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_Interlude_

_Ya know, sometimes I wonder why I stay with old Doctor D. His pay is good, sure. I get my pick of assignments. I'm second-in-command, which is gr-eat; all the props with none of the responsibilities. First dibs on all the lair rooms. Unlimited mileage if I wanna fly. Dozens of goons at my beck and call, tending to my every whim. And the benefits package? _**-Very-**_ nice. But he's such a goofball. Brilliant, but lazy. Always thinks big but never takes the time to hammer out details. So full of himself that he never has a plan B._

_Alright, okay, _**-I-**_ am his plan B. Maybe that's why he pays me so much._

_Triple-S? Have you even _**-seen-**_ his contracts? It'd take an army of hot-shot lawyers to decipher that shit. Dementor? Pfft, as if I'd let a pipsqueak dome-head be my boss. Amy? I hate clones almost as much as I hate mind-control. Killigan's _**-way-**_ too absorbed with balls and shafts, if ya know what I mean. Hench, ugh, _**-no-**_. He's got a cake clause, and I don't do cakes._

_Doctor D never tells me what to do. A lot of the time, it's the other way around. But when is he ever going to get it right? We always win the small battles, yet lose the wars._

_Sometimes, I think he plans to fail. That all he wants is a pat on the back by his old college buddies, a toast with a six-pack and a kiss from a hot babe._

_And I _**-don't-**_ mean _**-me-**_._

_Well, at least I get to tangle with Princess._

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_I sometimes wonder why Shego stays with Drakken._

_I mean she's smart, she's sex-, er, beautiful and obviously better than any goon out there._

_And he's just.... I don't know. Like my Dad and Ron combined._

_Does she love him or something? That would be ferociously wrongsick!_

_But you know, even with all the years I've fought him, he's yet to actually hurt someone seriously. And he does get a lot of ideas, which just translates into more wins for Team Possible and more "street cred."_

_Besides, I get to tangle with Shego... mwowrrr!_

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**Blood and Bondage - Chapter Eleven: Ground Zero**

Kim could not believe what had just happened. Drew Lipsky, her nemesis for all the years of her high school life, then known as Doctor Drakken, had just shown up at her front door and had asked for help... not for himself, but for Shego. But even with the unexpected event, Kim was far from paralysed.

The hero leapt forward to turn the failing scientist onto his back. She looked at the cut. The gash was ragged and twisted at one side, as if it had glanced off something. She pressed her hands against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding.

"Dad? Mo'?" James and Monique continued to stare in shock at the bleeding man.

"DAD! MONIQUE!" Kim's shout made them jump.

"Monique!" Kim called, nodding at the girl. The design diva's wide eyes locked with Kim's. "Go to my room. Call Wade and bring down the KPS. Got it?"

Monique nodded.

"What did I ask you to do?" Kim demanded as the black girl hesitated, her eyes drifting back to the blood that was seeping from between Kim's fingers.

"Go upstairs, beep Wade, bring down the KPS."

"Alright," Kim nodded. "Go!" Monique ran up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Kim turned to her father.

"Dad, how long is Mom going to be?" James' eyes darted back and forth as he tried to recall the past thirty minutes.

"She should be home any minute..."

"Okay. Get me some towels, then boil some water on the stove, okay? Dad?"

"Right, towels, boil water."

"Please and thank you."

James dashed off to the linen closet. Kim continued to press her hands down and together, trying to keep the wound closed. The blood was starting to pool on the landing's tiles. Her father stopped by and dropped some towels beside her on his way to the kitchen. She immediately took one and attempted to staunch the bleeding.

"Omigod Kim, what is going on!" Kim turned to the sound of her mother's frantic voice. Anne stood in the front door and blinked. "Drew?" she gasped in recognition.

"Mom, he's got a major incision on his chest and a lot of minor lacerations." Kim was glad she was remembering the medical jargon from years of hearing her mother speak about her operations and from first aid training. The medical terms seemed to bring out her mother's Doctor side; Anne's eyes focused on Kim and she nodded.

"Let me get my bag. Is your father boiling water?"

"Yep."

"Alright, be right back!" Anne dashed out to her car for her medical bag. In a moment, Anne returned, carrying a large daysack knapsack. She slung the bag onto her back.

"James, could you come here dear?" Anne called out. James raced over as Monique bounced down the stairs. "Let's get Drew to the kitchen table. Is it cleared?"

"Yes, ma'am," James nodded.

"I'll take his legs if you get his arms, honey. Kim? Keep up the pressure." Kim nodded in response. James put his arms under Drew's armpits. Anne crossed Drew's legs at the ankle and wrapped both arms around the ankles. Behind her, she could hear Wade's voice, "Oh my gosh, is that Drakken?"

"On three. One, two, three!" Anne and James hoisted Drew up with a grunt and shuffled toward the kitchen. Monique continued to hold the KPS, the video lens taking in the family working together. They threaded Drew through the kitchen doorframe and lay him gently on the long white table. Anne unslung her bag rummaged in it and pulled out a penlight. She peeled back one of the unconscious scientist's eyelids and flicked the light at the eye, watching intently. She repeated with the other eye.

"Kim!" Wade's voice was insistent. "I've got no video feed from any of the hotel's security cameras. Someone's cut the wires, jammed the signal or smashed the server. The police cams in the area are also down, so my bet is jamming. The spysats are picking up large spikes of electricity. Oh, and Doctor Missus P, I'll call nine-one-one for you."

"Thanks, Wade," Anne said as she finished checking Drew's pupil dilation and then moved beside Kim.

"Kim, do you need to get going? Let me take over here." Anne took hold of the bloody towel as Kim carefully backed away.

"Okay. Wade, I'm on my way!" Kim paused at the door, glancing back for one last look. Her mother was pulling the blood soaked towel back to look at the gash. She turned to go and nearly ran into Monique who had stayed just outside the kitchen to keep out of the way.

"Whoa," Kim gulped. "Mo' you stay here and stand by with my Mom, okay? I got the wrist Kimmunicator, you keep the KPS."

"Alright girl. An' you, go get Shego." Kim flashed a quick smile and dashed out of the kitchen. She paused at the landing table and snatched the spare car keys from the drawer. She then stopped at the shrubs outside the house and picked up two flat, round-edged rocks the size of her fist. Quickly, she pulled out her laser lipstick and burned a hole through the flat centre of each of the large stones. She then tied a large dead knot three inches from the ends of her sleeves, threaded each of the stones onto each sleeve, securing them with a couple more knots. She jumped into her mother's silver and black Volvo station wagon, put on her seatbelt and pealed out of the driveway.

Kim had never driven so fast in her life. Even after she had taken her driver's test, she'd never gone faster than the speed limit except in case of an emergency. She silently thanked God that Saturday traffic in her neighbourhood was always light. Said neighbourhood sped by in a blur. She dipped and swerved around the few weekend drivers on the wide small town street. Vehicles and faces flashed by, were processed and immediately forgotten as she pushed the car faster. But as she sped down the street a siren squawked behind her. She glanced at the rear-view mirror to see a Middleton Police Cruiser with flashing lights.

"Great," Kim muttered, jamming her foot down on the gas pedal. The Volvo jerked forward as the engine roared. The cruiser's siren began to blare in earnest as it chased after her. She wove between a minivan and a sedan, cut across a 4-way stop, narrowly missing a bus, which screeched to a stop. The cruiser kept right behind her. _Where was that hotel... there!_ The squat colonnaded building was coming up fast on the right. She hastily beeped Wade.

"Kim?" Wade's voice came to her.

"Can you get the cop to back me up, and where's Shego?" Kim pulled the car past a few more minivans.

"Last footage I got is Drakken and Shego heading for a car on the second level of the underground car park," Wade immediately replied. "The cop... That might take a while, I gotta go through channels. Just be careful if he warns you he's going to shoot."

"Ugh! Okay, thanks Wade." The hotel was coming up fast. She could see the entrance to the underground parking garage. She jammed the brake and jerked the steering wheel, causing the car to slide driver's side first toward the parking kiosk. Inside, she could see the attendant's terrified face. The silver Volvo screeched to a stop, completely blocking the entrance to the garage. She put the car in park, pulled the parking brake, wrapped the stone-weighted sleeves around her hands and jumped out. The cruiser shot past, but managed to squeal to a stop half a block down the road.

"Don't call 911," she told the attendant as she jumped over the wooden barrier. She sprinted down the ramp.

"Yue cahn leaf yooah cahr heeah, yo!" the young Asian attendant shouted after her.

"Stop!" she heard the police officer yell. Kim smiled a bit at the woman's voice.

"Sorry, can't!" she called back.

As she raced through the underground entrance, she could hear several distant explosions. Kim wondered how goons could keep Shego from following Drew for so long. She ran even faster, flexing her hands slightly as she pounded down the first level to the next. Only a handful of cars were parked in the lot. As she rounded the first corner of the next ramp, she could see two bodies lying at the bottom. They were wearing purple and grey scorch-marked bodysuits. Kim frowned. Green flashes continued to strobe her vision. As she descended, she tightened the sleeves wrapped around her hands, the stones thickly padded from her knuckles. When Kim reached the fallen men, she gasped at what she saw.

Bodies in grey and purple lay everywhere. Several cars were dented and were riddled with scorched holes. Twenty meters away, a knot of grey, purple and green bodies were engaged in a lethal dance. Time seemed to slow for Kim as she spied the green ex-villainess. Shego seemed to flow like water, her claws crashing into unprotected flesh, her body receding from viscous blows. Several more WEE goons fell to the ground.

Kim's eyes widened when she saw five other figures in green jump suits darting in and out, driving the black haired beauty back. On their hands were yellow glowing spike-knuckled power gloves. As Shego spun away, green plasma darts flew at one of the green men, only to be deflected by the yellow glowing glove. Kim saw the desperation, and to her surprise, green blood dripping from the woman's torn black and green one-piece sarong.

With a primal roar Kim charged the back of the group. Some of the WEE goons paused, hearing her battle cry and were the first to fall as she ploughed into the mass, her fists and feet a blur. Kim simply flowed around the slow and clumsy punches that the goons threw at her. Crimson blossoms and sharp cracks punctuated her attacks as she pounded through a crowd of WEE agents.

Ducking a punch, Kim flowed forward, a fist already buried in the man's gut. She flowed past him, spinning into a roundhouse that cracked another man across the jaw and throwing him into his fellows. Landing among three more goons, she kicked one man in the shin, tripping him into five more as they rushed up. She then crouched as the other two closed on her and drove a stone-covered fist into the chest of one as her foot lashed out into the forehead of the other. She somersaulted over the heads of more as they arrived, the purple ribbons trailing behind her as she ran across their shoulders, deliberate driving her heels down hard. She left a few broken collarbones in her wake. When she finally lit to the ground, she charged back in.

No palm strikes now. No time for blocks, for fancy moves. It was fist, elbow, knee and foot blade. She jumped atop a man who dived at her and drove him to the ground with a twist of her feet, only to slide away from three fists from different directions. One jaw-breaking uppercut drove a man off his feet and into others. She punched another's shoulder before he loosed his own punch and followed up with her other fist to the chest. He went down clutching his shattered breastbone. She then struck five fists as they flew at her, her strikes accompanied by the cracking sound of broken finger bones and screams of pain. A man tried to grab her from behind, but she ducked heaved, flipping the man bodily into the air. He knocked several others to the ground. Leaning back as a foot lashed out at her, she drove her fist down on the knee, shattering the cap. As she neared the green flashing centre of the maelstrom of moving bodies, she saw Shego hesitate at the sight of her.

"Kim..." the redhead saw on her lips.

Suddenly, a powered fist cut across Shego's cheek, splitting the skin, as another ploughed into her side. She flew back several meters, spinning into a cement column. The ebony haired woman fell to the ground, her glow immediately disappearing. Kim could see her fingers twitching, trying to move. The green suited men closed on her.

Kim's mind went blank. Her nose twitched, her lip curled into a snarl. With a howl, she drove a two fisted strike into the back of the green suited man who had driven the green girl to her knees. The man's spine snapped with an audible crack. Kim planted a foot into his side, viscously launching him into a second green suited goon. In an instant, Kim stood between Shego and her attackers. The three remaining green men drew back a few paces and glanced at each other as the fallen man struggled to get up. They clashed their knuckles together and the gauntlets glowed brighter. The WEE goons, taking one look at the expression on Kim's face, ran.

Kim charged foreword as they powered up, loosening her right hand's wrappings. The green men raised their hands at the unexpected attack. Kim ducked and wove as gauntleted fists drove at her. She slid to one side, driving at the man to her left. His punch missed her by a hair as she leaned away, but he followed up with a backhand with the same fist. She went into a backflip, her heel driving into his jaw, knocking him back. The two other men charged at her, their fists lashing out together. Kim somersaulted over them. As she flew she drew back an arm and launched her right stone. It struck one of the men in the head with a crunch and he fell forward, his body suddenly slack. The fourth man finally pushed out from under his colleague and got to his feet.

Kim spun her makeshift rope weapon, the stone whistling around her. The three remaining green suited men circled her as the whirling rock held them at bay. They were moving more cautiously, now that her reach had been extended by a whole meter and they were only armoured on their fists and forearms. Kim faked right, and drove to the left as the men shifted. The man she charged spread his arms, attempting a grapple, but Kim flowed to the side, driving her left fist at the man's elbow. A loud clang and sparks flashed as the stone connected with the armoured elbow, the other two men driving past their fellow. Kim frowned as she punched one fist up and away, weaving around another. As she spun, her free flying stone whipped over and trapped the man's outstretched arm. With a swift jerk, she pulled him off balance. As he stumbled, she jumped back as the first man came in with a tight one-two combo. She stepped into the second punch and came up with her shoulder under the man's elbow, driving her feet hard into the cement and heaving him away. She followed up with a left straight into the man's solar plexus. The air whooshed out of him and he stumbled back, gasping for air. That move allowed the other two to bracket her again.

Suddenly, a barrage of green plasma darts burned into the side of one man and narrowly missed the other. Kim charged while they were distracted, her stone whipping out, cracking against a forehead. As the green goon fell, Kim leapt on the gasping man. A stone covered left put him down for the count.

Kim turned to see Shego standing up and smirking at her.

"Hey Princess, nice skirt," Shego said, taking in Kim's gothwear. Kim glanced at the fallen bodies around them and gave a mental shrug. This was not the setting she wanted to make her run at the brunette, but she knew it was now or never.

Kim fixed a sultry eye at the woman and suddenly the smirk was not so self-assured. She then slowly strutted up to the glowing woman, swaying her hips hypnotically. The skirt swished and the ribbons played back and forth. Kim saw how the woman's eyes travelled up her long legs that disappeared into the wealth of tulle beneath. The corset accentuated the girl's lean hips. Shego worked her mouth as Kim sauntered closer.

"Uh, Kimmie...?" Shego said, her eyes darting back and forth.

The woman backed away as the redhead continued to stalk toward her. Her back hit the cool cement of the column she had just been thrown into. Shego's eyes widened and she licked her lips nervously. Her claws dug into the cement with soft screeches.

"L-look, I'm sorry for running out on you like that Pumpkin," Shego stammered out. The redhead sidled up to the woman's side, who gave her a wide-eyed suspicious glance. Kim moved closer. Her glow-girl was looking a little bit panicked. The split cheek had already stopped bleeding.

"Hi, Shego," Kim purred. "Tough day?"

"Yeah..." the woman couldn't seem to stop breathing in Kim's scent. It was like a musky peach, with a hint of the sea. "Th-the goons, and those gauntlet... plasma..." Shego trailed off as Kim inched even closer. She could feel Shego's body temperature spike as she leaned in.

"Why did you run out on me?"

"I-I, needed to leave, in... hurry" Shego seemed incapable of coherency as Kim brushed fingers lightly up one of her forearms.

"Did you know I chased you...?" Kim whispered in her ear.

"Uh... hate... good-byes?" the mint coloured woman croaked.

"Ten miles." Kim's breath teased across the woman's dark lips.

"Ye-yeah, really?... uh..." Kim could see the rabbiting of the brunette's carotid.

_Crack!_

Kim's right cross hit Shego squarely in the jaw. The woman staggered a bit, seeing stars. Then Kim gripped her face in both hands and pressed her lips against Shego's, pushing the woman against the column with her own smaller body.

Even after the teeth rattling hit and the aching jaw, the feel of the hero's lips burned its way into Shego's consciousness. Her world collapsed into the soft pink lips that were melded to her own. Her body shuddered involuntarily, surrendering to the lithe form that pressed against her. She could feel the girl's chest pressing against her own. Her awareness seemed to expand to the size of a galaxy, her mind full of swirling light. A raging fire suddenly spread through her, burning away her fears, her promises, her self-imposed chains.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Kim drew back.

"Glad to see me, Shego?" Kim asked innocently, slightly breathless. The ex-villain made no response, but the woman's glazed look was all the answer Kim needed.

"Uh..." was all the woman could say, her brain not quite functioning yet. The redhead smirked; Shego had not quite come back to earth.

Kim stepped away quickly, before the woman had the forethought of taking the redhead in her arms. Shego was left with her hands half raised. The hero turned around, knowing the woman's eyes were watching her purple skirt flounce. She deliberately put a hand on a cocked hip and gave the woman a coquettish backward glance.

"By the way, Drew's at my house. My parents are looking after him." Shego visibly shook herself as Kim brought up more urgent business.

"Huh, he actually listened..."

"Holy Hannah!" gasped a deep male voice, followed by a high female "Freeze!"

The girls turned. Three of Middleton's finest stood at the bottom of the ramp, their pistols drawn. They stared at all the bodies of motionless or groaning men. Kim glanced around again; with her mind on other things when she had first arrived, she never really took in the scene. Several light fixtures lay strewn all over the concrete. Broken glass carpeted the floor. Some of the cars were overturned, some still smoking from errant plasma bolts, as were some of the men. Several columns had their steel rods exposed. Craters and bubbled concrete speckled the ground. The hero turned back to the new arrivals and recognized one of the officers.

"Harry Hobble?" Kim said. The older male officer turned to get a better look at her.

"Kim Possible!?!" he exclaimed then gave a barking laugh. "I shoulda known you'd be in on this," he said, lowering his sidearm and gesturing for the other, younger officers to do the same. Kim noticed the man put his away quickly, while the female seemed somewhat reluctant, her eyes fixed beyond the red-head. Kim walked over and shook Hobble's hand.

"Seargent?" Kim asked and smiled, noticing the stripes on his shoulder as he holstered his weapon. "Linda must be thrilled! When did this happen?"

"Ah, couple of months back. And she was, especially the pay raise," he said. "When did you get back?"

"Just yesterday."

"Not even twenty-four hours and you're already causing trouble," Hobble laughed as Kim pinked slightly. "What happened here?"

"Some guys tried to jump a scientist I know. I got wind of it and came to help out."

"_**-Not-**_ to break into this little party," said a sarcastic voice. Kim and Hobble turned to see Shego standing with one hand on a cocked hip. She tapped her foot impatiently. "But I need to check on Doctor D." Hobble's face darkened in recognition, but his eyes widened when Kim put a hand on his wrist.

"Harry, you know Shego? She was _**-pardoned-**_ about eighteen months back?" Kim arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah... yeah I know her," he growled. He glanced at Shego, then back to Kim. "I'll get your statements later. Are you going to be around for long?"

"Yep. I'll be at my parents." Kim raised her wrist and beeped Wade with the wrist Kimmunicator. All she got was static.

"Huh, the signal's still being blocked?" Kim wondered aloud. Not hearing a reply, she turned, looking for Shego. The woman had already disappeared up the ramp. Kim chased after her. She caught up to the woman half way through the first floor of the car park as the woman stomped off.

"Shego, are you okay?" Kim asked. The woman lifted her arm to inspect her side; the bleeding in her side was already scabbed over. Kim's face pinked again at the sight of the exposure. She busied herself by untying the rocks from her sleeves and tossing them aside.

"Can't stand cops," the ex-villainess muttered. "Everything's a power-trip with them."

"Harry's okay," Kim shrugged. "I couldn't get Wade on the Kimmunicator. Let's get out and see if I can raise him there."

As they exited the ramp, the static began fading. Truncated snippets of Wade's frantic voice made them walk faster.

"... you there? Ki-.... -gent... Drak-... -lance!... were in... -ury!" When they arrived at Kim's car, the static disappeared. Kim's face paled. She felt as if a horse had kicked her in the stomach when she heard the full message.

"...-peats! Kim, I've lost signal on Drakken's ambulance! Your parents and Monique was following them in the ess-yoo-vee! Please hurry! Message repeats! Kim,.." Kim immediately paged Wade.

"Kim!" the relief in Wade's voice was just as frightening.

"Got your message. Sitch me!"

"Lost the KPS signal at Fox and Barry, they were heading to Middleton General. 'rents and Monique were in the ess-yoo-vee following." Shego and Kim jumped into the Volvo. The parking attendant was nowhere to be found, but the three cruisers had cordoned off the car park ramp.

"I'm on it!" For the first time this night, coldness settled at the pit of Kim's stomach. The station wagon tore off, the back fishtailing slightly as Kim wrestled the car onto the road. The car raced, chasing the setting sun.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -

The ambulance was resting on its side. Black skid marks trailed for fifteen feet behind. Only one bank of its white and blue lights was still flashing; the others had left a trail of broken glass ten meters long. Smoke pouring out of the exposed engine, the hood having been blasted away. One paramedic lay in the cabin, while the other dangled from the driver's seat. Both were unconscious. Further up the street, a silver utility van had ploughed into a tree. White smoke from deployed air bags poured out of the cabin, the occupants completely obscured. Two men in green jump suits held a slumped blue skinned figure between them, dragging him through shattered glass and engine debris. They stopped before a towering silver-lensed figure in forest green. A fourth green jump suited man stood attentively at the towering figure's shoulder.

"Wh-who are you? What... do you... want?" Drew peered up at the man who was clearly the leader.

"Agent Green, my good Doctor."

"Pfft... so... unoriginal..." the blue scientist scoffed.

"You nearly got away, Doctor Drakken," said Agent Green, ignoring the jibe. "You've led us quite the merry chase."

"I... no longer... go by... that name!" The blue skinned scientist gasped out, his arms pinned painfully behind him. Blood was already beginning to seep through the bandages across his chest. A fresh gash on his forehead bled heavily.

"My master would be most displeased if you were to escape." The Agent turned to the man behind him. "See to it that he does not." He walked to the curb lifting an elaborate communications device.

"Ready the clamps," said one of his men.

"What-what? Clamps? What for...?" Drew's voice cringed in upon itself.

"We're ready," Agent Green spoke into the device.

"Two minutes," was the clipped reply. Behind him was rasping sound of steel leaving a sheath.

"No.... wait..." Drew's voice was frightened, tremulous. "Stop... stop... stopstopstopST-"

Agent Green laughed, as Drew's high-pitched screams ripped through the air. They echoed down the street for a very long time.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -

When Kim saw the smoke, her heart lurched. Her foot held the pedal all the way down. The Volvo rocketed into an intersection as Kim executed a perfect sliding turn. Shego was strapped in but had buried her claws into the dashboard before her to keep from being thrown about. She had an uncharacteristic frown on her face. As they crested a hill, Kim felt as a fist had hit her right in the chest.

Several cars had stopped and people were gathering around a crashed SUV. Her father's! The explosive air bag smoke was beginning to dissipate. No one dared approach the smoking ambulance. The residents of the house whose lot the utility van had crash in had come out with blankets.

A single crater buckled the pavement. Her father's SUV had smashed headlong into one of the large oak trees that lined the road. The grass was churned up and deep rough runnels led to the car. Further down the road lay the smoking remains of a Middleton General Ambulance on its side. Kim pulled the Volvo as close as possible and leaped out of the car.

"No..... no!" She broke into a sprint.

"Kimmie, wait!" But the redhead was already long gone and getting farther. "Damn it." Shego muttered under her breath. She could see James Possible leaning against the driver's side of the SUV, a concerned passer-by speaking to him and helping him stagger away from the smashed car. Anne was already sitting by the sidewalk along with Monique, their arms wrapped around each other. Two paramedics lay nearby on the grass, where people had lay them down. Kim skidded to a stop in front of the pair.

Bystanders were already converging and talking.

"Mom! Mom, are you okay?" Kim asked as she pulled up. Anne smiled at the concern in her daughter's face.

"We're-we're okay, we're fine," she said, but her pale face turned bleak. "But Drew... I don't-" Anne swallowed weakly. "Don't know if you, you should go see..." Monique's eyes were closed shut, her lips pale.

"Mo'?" Kim was worried and surprised to see her friend so shaken.

"I doan wanna see, I doan wanna see," the girl mumbled. Kim looked at her mother, but the older Possible just shook her head, unable to speak. Tears glistened unshed on her eyelids.

Sirens could be heard in the distance, getting closer.

Kim stood up, and looked around for Shego. The woman was standing a few meters away from the opened back of the ambulance. Her fists were clenched, her body rigid. Kim walked over to her, but slowed. She could see blood dripping from the woman's fists, where her claws had dug themselves into her palms. Kim couldn't see her expression, her face shadowed in the setting sun.

"Shego?" Kim's tentative voice came to green-tinted woman. Shego jerked. She took a shuddering breath. Kim's professional eye started to go over the scene. The rear left door of the ambulance hung loosely, the rear right door rested on the ground, wide open. She could see that the gurney was still locked in position inside the cabin, wires hanging crazily from the instrument panel above it. The straps had been cut away. Broken glass was everywhere. Plastic tubing trailed out of the door to a large dark puddle...

Shego suddenly whipped around and threw her arms around the younger woman. Her face was tight.

"Don't look, Kim... don't look..." she said in a hoarse voice. But Kim's wide haunted eyes told Shego it was too late. Kim brought her hands up and clutched at the woman's tattered dress. She buried her face against a softly glowing shoulder as if to hide her shocked face.

"_**-Oh-**_. _**-My-**_. _**-God-**_." Kim convulsively forced out. Shego brought up a blood stained hand and clumsily stroked Kim's hair, as if she could physically soothe away the dread. "Oh my g-God..."

In the middle of the large pool of blood were two legs, hacked off at the knees, the polished leather shoes gleaming in the faltering light.


	12. Chapter 12: Vanishing Point

Disclaimer:  
Kim Possible © Disney  
Star Wars © 20th Century Fox and George Lucas

Thanks to catrlgirl and Nikkou for beta work. You Rock!

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_Interlude_

_Today I just witnessed the weirdest and most disgusting thing ever._

_Drakken mooning over DNAmy._

_Okay, so it all started because Doctor D couldn't get his shit together and get the gene-sequencer thingy to work. Hey, if he couldn't get it going, I wasn't about to help him out. And they hit it off pretty quick. I get it; they're both mad scientists. They're both not quite a catch, if ya know what I mean. They don't get out of their labs often enough. They like messing around with the natural order of things. Right, let me say it simply: L-O-S-E-R-S. _

_But c'mon. A grown woman making weirdo cross-specie monsters? Ugh, don't get me started. There are only a few things I won't do even for the love of money. Cakes, clones and cuddle buddies top the list._

_In the end, the big blue dork really liked her, only to have her grind his heart under her heel when she said she was taken. By Monty, no less!_

_See, that's what happens when you give away your heart. You give someone else power over you. They become your one, your all. You dance to their tune. Their world becomes yours, and you just fade away._

_If mine's gonna break, I'd rather do it myself._

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_Today I just witnessed something more than sick and wrong. It was wrongsick._

_DNAmy and Montgomery Fiske! Together!_

_She was the one who originally gave Montgomery Fiske his monkey hands and feet. A purely professional relationship, so he claimed. But DNAmy saw it differently. She created her own army of samurai gorillas to hunt poor Monty down. She kidnapped Master Sensei in order to get Ron to help track down the British ex-patriot. She even gave herself gorilla arms and legs to compliment her love's own appendages._

_I heard that she broke Drakken's heart the night of the dragon, when I used Justine's continuum disruptor to send the overgrown iguana into limbo. But anyone willing to used the words like "sweetums", "cuddle-monkey", "mummsie" with a straight face is just.... yeah. Wrongsick it is._

_Y'know I wonder if I'd be like that if I was really in love. What would go that distance? Into madness and beyond? Now I kind of understand the words I had said to Monique when we both were crushing on Hirotaka: "Truly Madly". Because love really is a kind of madness._

_But in the end I don't know what tweaked me more, the fact that Ron didn't tell me about Yamanouchi being a ninja school, or Yori being such a.... a slut! And for the record... _**-I was not jelling-**_!_

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**Blood and Bondage  
Chapter Thirteen: Vanishing Point  
by sweetPixiesmile  
**

The sun was only beginning to rise over the mountains. Below, the passes were veiled in a thick mysterious fog. The abrupt granite heights, crowned with spare lichen and ferns stood tall and narrow. As the sun crested the horizon, the bright sparkle of gold could be barely seen atop on of these volcanic spires.

Rufus lay on his back, his hand clasped behind his head, staring into the limitless sky as it brightened. He sighed as the air began to warm, the sunlight playing across his pale pink skin. Beside him was his favourite human friend. Rufus glanced at Ron, who was in the same position. The blond's sigh was not as content.

Today was the day of the competition to gain permission to court Yori.

Rufus didn't really understand what was going on, but he detected currents of stress in all the humans from the scents and pheromones they exuded. Yori-hime oscillated between a trembling expectation and consuming dread. Dai Sensei and "Nana" Possible both hid their fear very well. Hirotaka-san simply exuded determination. Why didn't Yori simply just designate both Ron and Hirotaka as mate-worthy and have done with it? (1)

But Rufus knew that humans did not work that way. Indeed, humans would get all sorts of funny notions in their heads that simply complicated matters, especially when facing competing thought-structures. Humans were as varied as the clouds in the sky, or as grains of sand in his native home.

Having known Ron since his infancy, Rufus was assured that not only did a heart of a warrior beat inside the goofy blond, but that heart was generous, compassionate and unconsciously insightful. Ron had never treated him like a pet, but as an equal. Rufus knew this was somewhat aberrant behaviour when humans related to their animal friends, but it swelled his heart with pride to be treated as such. He scratched behind his ear with a forepaw, feeling the nervousness of his friend.

Rufus looked over at Ron.

The rodent was worried. He was getting on in years and wondered after he was gone, who would look after the goofy blond. That was a question that had begun gnawing at him recently, ever since the incident with Warhok and Warmonga. Although Ron had found himself in perilous positions in the past, that last incident was beyond the norm and had pushed the panicky blond into tapping hidden strengths to defeat the alien conquerors, and save the world. But not just the "world" in the generic sense, but also Ron's own personal world, and de facto, Rufus's. He had saved Kim and all of Middleton. He had saved even Drakken and Shego, old foes that finally turned from their villainous ways.

Rufus considered whether having a legacy would be wise. He was sure his oddities would be passed on to his offspring.

Rufus knew that he was not cut from the same cloth as the rest of his genus. He was infinitely smarter and independent. He understood multiple languages, both in the human and animal kingdoms. He didn't require a queen or a home; in some ways, Kim had taken that place, and the Possibles and the Stoppables were his family group. Posse, as Ron would say. During the times that he had visited the Smarty Mart pet section and looked in on his brethren, the drones were dull and boring, the queens uninteresting and self-absorbed.

Rufus blinked and smiled ruefully. Why was he feeling so nostalgic? He stood up and shook himself. Today was not a day for such thoughts.

Ron sighed again and sat up. Rufus put a comforting hand on his friend's knee.

"Yeah, I know little guy," the blond said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Today is the day we see what the Ronster's made of, huh?"

Rufus chittered, his inflections deftly mimicking human sympathy. Ron's moods tended to oscillate quickly, but today he smelled pensive and morose.

"I told Kim I was coming here to clear my head, but now..." Ron shook his head. "I'm all caught up in this Yori thing." Ron lapsed into a silence. Rufus continued to gaze up at his friend.

"You know, Kim's always been great," Ron said in a low mutter, a generous sprinkling of guilt spicing his words. "But sometimes, she can be sooo.... and Yori... she's always believed in me..." Rufus now understood his friend's thoughts. By even fighting for a chance to court Yori, Ron felt guilt. Ron's Queen was Kim, but for him to feel attraction to another female, who was also in all senses of the word, another Queen, Ron felt it was somehow a betrayal of sorts.

Rufus mimicked the Kimmunicator chime and struck a pose, both arms raised up in a powerflex.

"Yeah, I know," Ron nodded watching the naked mole rat's pantomime. "Kim's strong. I mean, she's totally got badical skills! And she's tough too."

"Um-hmm um-hm! Tough! But Yori, friend!" Rufus pointed out.

"Yeah." Ron stared at the clear sky.

"Master Sensei said she'd need me to do this..." Ron stopped. "And you know what, Rufus? You're right. Yori's a friend, and she needs me. I won't let her down." Ron stood up. Rufus scampered up his trousers and onto the blond's shoulder. He could smell his friend's renewed spirit soar, but then drop precipitously into confusion.

"But you know, I gotta question I gotta ask..." Ron said, gazing at the rising sun. "What is it about mystical monkey stuff that makes everyone talk mystical? I just don't get it!" Rufus shook his head with a small chuckle.

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"C'mon Yori-sempai, please wear this!" called a small pink haired girl. She held a beautiful bronze kimono with intricate cherry blossom embroidery. Around her fussed several of the younger female students. They held several brightly pattern silk articles of clothing, contrasting with their dark ninja garb.

"Oh! Yori-sempai, you would look so lovely in this!" gushed another.

Yori, dressed in her accustomed dark ninja garb, frowned at the girls surrounding her, and they flinched, dropping to the ground in deep bows before she could smooth her brow. She turned to the window in her room, away from the bowing girls.

"Please forgive us for being so forward, Yori-sempai!" Yori suppressed a sigh.

"I wish to be alone for now." The girls had the grace not to glance at each other as they withdrew quickly and quietly, but as the shoji closed, she could hear their titters of laughter.

Yori sank to the tatami floor and covered her face with her hands even as the morning light filled the room. How did things come to this? It was like living in a bad romance manga. When she was growing up, Yori felt that she was somewhat of a tomboy; not more masculine, just less feminine. Catching frogs with Hirotaka had left her spirited and adventurous, but being the heir of the Founder's Bloodline drew a line in behaviour and decorum that she dared not cross. When she reached the age of eight, tea ceremonies, history lessons, calligraphy and poetry, on top of her martial training replaced frog chasing.

Why had Ojiisan changed his mind, after that talk all those weeks ago? Hadn't he said it was her choice, either to be the next Dai Sensei, or to be the consort of such?

Yori paused. Was that it? If she married Ron, he could never be Dai Sensei, but he could be consort. There were no rules dictating the ethnicity of the consort, other than being "in the spirit of the School and it's founder."

She closed her eyes. In her mind's eye, she saw the soft grounds of the school's inner courtyard. Two children, a girl with black tresses and brown soulful eyes, played ball with a blond, black-eyed boy. They giggled joyously as they ran past an older Yori dressed in the traditional garb of the school's Dai Sensei, and Ron in ninja black, sitting at the edge of one of the open corridors that lined the Dai Sensei residence. She slipped her arms around the blond and rested her cheek against his shoulder. Further away, several wriggling pink hairless rodents played. Yori turned her lips up to her husband's, running her fingers across his belt...

Yori came out of the sudden reverie with a snap, a blush staining her cheeks. That was so.... vivid! Yori concentrated, trying to slow her speeding heart.

The last month had been a strange rush of emotions, her wa completely destroyed. She had not been more or less polite, but she had been... withdrawn. This she knew from the whispered gossip of the kohais that had assigned themselves to chaperon her wherever she walked, and was now trying their best to "assist" her.

If Ron was the consort choice, would that mean Hirotaka represented her giving up the mantle? Or was there a deeper game to this?

Yori shook her head. Dai Sensei had reason to call back one of the school's most learned and trusted students and Hirotaka had answered that summons. He was bound by his honour, she was sure, to participate in the competition. Ron, as much as Yori felt she knew him, was loyal to a fault and would not likely backdown either. If they were going to lay their honour on the line for her, she decided, she would do the same. But she would do it her own way.

She was samurai, descended directly in the line of the Founder, Toshimaru. She was the only holder of the crimson shizoku in the last three generations. She was the youngest teaching master of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar for decades. It would be her honour to uphold those who had entrusted these responsibilities to her.

Yori stood, clapping her hands sharply.

The shoji slid open to reveal the kohais, sitting with their legs tucked beneath them, ready to serve. "Yes, Yori-sempai?" answered the pink haired girl brightly.

"If I am to be ready, please assist me. This what you must do...."

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Hirotaka stood in the midst of a clear plateau, a large volcanic boulder before him. A small path meandered down from this jutting flat area, a ridge that overlooked the east. The misty mountains could be clearly seen for miles around. His breathing was deep and measured, even as he swayed slightly in a wide-legged stance, his index fingers pointing loosely downward before clenched fists. The sky was beginning to lighten. Hawks circled on distant updrafts, casting their sharp eyes to earth. Atop a smaller rock behind him sat Carolyn Possible, her legs crossed, her silver hair beginning to gleam in the lightening dawn. Her eyes watched the man before her. As the sun crested, Carolyn swiftly threw a small pebble the size of her thumb behind the boulder.

Quick as lightning, Hirotaka slid forward and drove his left finger into the boulder before him. Twenty feet behind the boulder, the thrown rock shattered into gravel. As he opened his eyes, he turned to the old woman and bowed deeply. Carolyn stood and simply nodded, a small smile of approval on her lips. Without a word, she turned to a small path that led down from the high plateau.

The ninja paused as the sunlight began to warm his skin. Shielding his eyes against the sun, he looked into the lightening sky.

_Today was a good day to help a friend_, he thought to himself.

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"Get up you lazy oaf!"

Shiro covered his head with his comforter, trying to ignore the load banging at his shoji. He was only starting to recover from his constant seasickness and he wanted as much rest as he could possibly get.

"Hey, get your ass in gear and get up!" shouted the cheerful voice. He turned away from the noise with a groan as the frame to his shoji continued to rattle. Even in the closet, that harridan's voice was piercingly sharp.

"Don't make me drag you out of that closet!" Shiro's eyes snapped open. He hastily shoved his closet door open.

"I'm up, I'm up!" he called out franticly. The last time Keiko made good on that promise, he had bruises all over his body. Not wanting a repeat performance, he staggered over to the shoji and opened it.

"C'mon let's get going," Keiko said as she grabbed his hand and attempted to pull him out of the room.

"What's with your stupid shouting at daybreak? Some people need sleep!" Shiro asked, resisting.

"What? You're up now, so let's just go!" The small girl gave a brutal yank and Shiro stumbled into the corridor. She began dragging the gangly faltering boy towards the main exit. "I want to get a seat right near Yori-sempai!" she explained as she continued tugging the taller boy along.

Shiro let out a long protracted groan. Could this day get any worse?

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Dai Sensei's eye looked out over the Yamanouchi grounds, his heart heavy with sorrow, weighed down by the prices to be paid today. The feelings of dread that he and Carolyn-chan had experienced had not abated. They had grown stronger and stronger. He shuddered to think what it might portend.

He remembered his words to Yori, what was it, just over six weeks past? He felt that in this way he had betrayed her, making a lie of his intentions and his words to her. Although he had not used tradition, status or affection to influence his granddaughter's decisions, it was the words from Carolyn-chan that had change his mind.

"_Dark clouds loom, Ichi-kun. I don't know what it is, but it scares me_." she had said.

The guards they had set around the school were alert and capable. Swiftly, like a sparrow, Dai Sensei's spirit returned to its body. As the sun rose, he gave a great sigh and stood. The fickle winds of heaven were blowing and he did not know what would be swept away, and what would remain.

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There was a buzz of excitement that the school had never seen in the air. Students, normally quiet and reserved, laughed and joked, bantering as they made their way up the path to the ceremonial grounds, a small circular clearing in the midst of a vast bamboo forest, high up on a neighbouring mountain's plateau. There was a festive feeling in the air, a great anticipation of a historical shift in tide. Although no hawkers or merchandise touting stalls could be seen, the mood of the crowd was excited and tumultuous. Stealth helicopters were continually arriving and departing, depositing more and more shinobi or Yamanouchi VIPs for this momentous occasion. Yet as even more arrived, they would melt into the surroundings, disappearing into the grass or trees or the bamboo tat surrounded the ceremonial clearing.

Ron scratched at his ear nervously. It had been years since he'd been at the school, yet the faculty and students had taken him in immediately. They had presented him with several challenges, such as the flesh-eating ants, but he felt he had performed admirably. They had taught him to trust in himself, and his decisions. And although he sometimes lacked focus, when he had it, he felt he could do practically anything.

He stood in a small tent. Outside, two senior students guarded either end to prevent visitors from disturbing the freckled blond.

"Not that I wouldn't mind being interrupted from my marination," Ron commented. Rufus watched from a stool as Ron paced the tent's short two meter length.

"Meditation," Rufus chirruped.

"Yeah, that. Hey, I wonder what the competition's going to be like? With all the noise, it sounds like all the ninjas in the world is coming to the par-tay!"

"Stoppable-san?" came a voice from outside the tent. "Please get ready, the competition is about to begin."

"Okay, got it! Oh, hey! Do you guys have any bottles of water, towels or something? Churros? I'm guessing there might be some fisticuffs involved, y'know, this being a ninja competition and all...?"

"Everything will be explained to you when the competition begins. Please be ready."

"Sure, okay. The Ron-man's always ready!"

The shadow from the tent opening hurried away. The swell of sound was getting louder and louder, but the rhythmic beating of helicopter rotors had ceased.

"The competition will begin in five minutes. Five minutes! Please find an unoccupied space." The public address system clicked as the announcement ended.

"Well, we'll let 'em know just what the Ron-man's made of, right buddy?"

"Ron!" The blond hesitated and glanced about as he heard the familiar voice.

"Wha...? Who is that? Okay, maybe I'm a little stressed out, hearing voices and all."

"Ron!"

"Not that talking to yourself is any better, but will you be quiet? I'm trying to marinate here!"

"Ron, up here!"

"Okay, why does the voice in my head sound like Wade? I always thought if I had a voice in my head, it'd sound more like, I dunno, like me..." Rufus jumped onto the blond's shoulder and grabbed his head with both paws. Slowly, he rotated the blond's head.

"Whoa! Little buddy, what're you... do... -ing?" Ron ground to a halt as he saw a four-inch disk floating near the top of the tent. A camera lens looked back at the teen.

"Ron, it's me, Wade!"

"Wade? What're you doing here? I mean, there. I mean, here and, - aw you know what I mean!"

"I'm doing some outsource work for the ninja school. They wanted a remote telecom network that would function in their locale. What are you doing here?... and why are you in the competitor's tent..... nooooo.... no way! You're a competitor?" Wade's voice was small and tiny, but the surprise was obvious. "You're fighting for the chance to get with a ninja princess?"

"Look, I'm just helping her out, okay? Yori's in a jam, and..."

"Hmmm, Yori.... Yori... I think Kim's mentioned her before in her mission notes. Uh,... does Kim know about this?"

"Ahahahaha..." Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, and I'd appreciate it if you kept this on the down low for now..."

"Well... okay. But you're going to be streamed worldwide to all the affiliates the school has, you realize this, right?"

"Yeah? Hey, you hear that Rufus? The Ronster's going international! Wait, Kim's not an affiliate, is she?"

"Naw. Even if she was, she's going to be, uh, busy." Wade's eyes darted down and to the left for a moment.

"Yeah?" Ron hesitated. "How is she? Is she... okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. Not much hero stuff going for her right now. Well, except for that oil rig thing; that reminds me, I gotta get the battlesuit laundered..." Outside, they could hear the drone of the Master of Ceremony. It seemed that the competition had just started.

"No, no, I meant,... is she _okay_?"

"Huh? I-, oh, Oh!" Wade's realization was palpable. "Well, she was pretty broken up about it, but she's okay now."

"Ye-yeah, really? Good to hear..." Ron's eyes drooped with concern. "She needs someone else; I mean, I'll always be there for her, but I'm just not the one for her... Hey, maybe I should call her. Wade what time is it over there?"

"Huh? Like 6 in the evening. Uh, but she's going to be busy. Uh, mission, local university function." Wade's voice paused. "Look, I gotta get going, I still have a bunch of drones to deploy. This one's going to stick with you for now. Don't mind it. It's going to provide people with an over the shoulder view for the affiliates. And Ron? Good luck."

"Thanks."

Ron glanced about, then slumped his shoulders. Rufus looked up at his friend in concern.

"Aww, man, I should've asked him if he could get me some Nacos!" The tent flap lifted up to reveal a young ninja.

"Stoppable-san?" the boy said as he bowed. "Please, we are ready for you."

"Here we go, little buddy! It's showtime!" Ron drew himself up, unconsciously touching his trusty titanium weave belt, an old gift and memento. "No de-pantsing for this radical badical!"

He stepped out of the tent onto a small circular clearing in the middle of a bamboo forest, the hovering remote camera following behind him. His tent was situated near the eastern stand of bamboo that surrounded the clearing. Directly infront of the tent was a large square, marked out with pebbles and rocks. The path to the school lay to the south; another path to the north headed into the grey and purple snow-capped mountains. Across the long waving grass, was Hirotaka's tent; Ron could see the stylish Japanese man stepping out of his own tent accompanied by another of the mobile cameras. A similar square was marked out before the man's tent. The young ninja gestured politely towards a small dais where Master Sensei stood. Carolyn Possible, along with several of the instructors stood behind the wizened martial artist. Each wore a collared shirt over a t-shirt and khaki cargo pants. Each had a backpack slung on their shoulders, stuffed with what seemed to be hiking gear. They seemed to be looking at a map. Each was holding what appeared to be GPS device. Ron approached the dais at a brisk walk and arrived first to stand before Dai Sensei. Hirotaka, with infinite composure, flipped a stick of gum into his mouth and sauntered up, at a leisurely pace. Ron swore he could hear some female sighs, although no one else had been seen in the clearing. Curious, he glanced about, and noticed a number of shadows lurking in the woods. Yori was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Master Sensei?" Ron asked before anyone could speak. "How come there's no one else here? I can see there's like those flying vidcams, but from all the noise, I thought there'd be more people. And what's with the clothing?"

"Stoppable-san," Hirotaka answered. "We are a ninja school. If we were to congregate in visibly large numbers, we would attract too much unwanted attention."

"Hah... oh yeah, that would do it. Sorry Master Sensei, I'm ready," Ron shrugged sheepishly.

Dai Sensei gave them both a kind smile.

"You have been chosen for a long and difficult road. Chosen for your loyalty and strength, you are here now to discover what is truly within you, and what you have to offer. For today, you compete for the honour of courting a very special person, both to the school, and my own heart. She is the last of The Founder's, Toshimaru's, blood to take up the mantel of this school. She is a warrior in her own right, a samurai of impeccable discipline and skill. Yet she is also a woman, and will require a companion who will care for her needs as well as his own. It is in this way, that although the path may be long and difficult, it is not to say that it will not be rewarding." Dai Sensei paused, but when he spoke, his voice seemed to gather in power.

"Will either of you yield this honour? Speak now."

"I will not yield, Sensei," Hirotaka answered immediately. "She has been my friend since we were children. Long have I admired her sense of honour and justice. I do not mean to slight Stoppable-san, who is formidable in his own right. But I do believe his past successes were not his own, and that his power to protect and serve Yamanouchi is not enough. I have travelled the world, learning what I can to augment my usefulness to Yamanouchi. If I may serve more, I will be satisfied with that honour." With that, the muscular ninja fell silent. Dai Sensei nodded and turned to Ron.

"Uh, well," he mumbled for a moment, scratching the back of his head. "I know I'm not Japanese or anything, and I'm not always the best fighter around. I can't do a lot of things you ninja dudes teach. All I can say whether the fast food tray is full or empty, Yori can count on me. I'll do my best to make sure she never wants for a naco. Oh, and the MMP hasn't let me down." Hirotaka nearly rolled his eyes at the blond's acronym. To degenerate the awesome might of the mystical monkey power to three little letters!

"Since neither of you will relinquish this honour, the time is at hand for the three-fold Trials of Strength, Spirit and Soul." It was what he had expected of the two. Dai Sensei nodded, and the two young ninjas who had accompanied the competitors disappeared, fast stepping to the path that led back to the school. They bowed low to the person who was cresting the plateau. Ron's mouth fell open in shock. Even Hirotaka's eyes widened. Around them, Ron was only vaguely aware of the sudden sound of spurting nose bleeds.

Yori stood on the path, dressed as a samurai, but Ron was pretty sure that no samurai had looked so dangerous and... sexy. Her midnight blue hair spilled out from under a bright red open-faced helmet with overlapping neck protector plates. A fierce raven's head decorated the crown of the helmet, its wide beak forming a visor above her deep, dark eyes. Golden quills crossed on the centre headpiece, the golden feathers swept up and back in two long graceful arcs. A bright red molded plate protected her flat stomach. Her crimson shuzoku top, which had pulled loose from the trek to the clearing, spilled over the top edge of the stomach protection, and exposed the golden strip bindings that secured her chest. A short, form hugging, plated battle skirt hung from her hips and swayed seductively as she stalked closer, giving scandalously enticing glimpses of a traditional samurai loincloth, also of gold material. On her bare arms she wore form fitted shoulder plates, plated gauntlets and forearm protectors. Her long legs sported matching bright red plated shin guards and hobnailed sandals. Each lacquered plate was embossed with golden feathers. A banner affixed to the back of the abdominal plate flew a sashimono(2): a stylised gold raven, fierce and beautiful, against a field of red silk with three lotus mons (3) across the top.

In her hands, she held the sheathed Lotus Blade.

Yori had sent her attendants flying throughout the school to fashion what she wore now; after she had told them her plans, they had fulfilled each task with great gusto and enthusiasm. And as they finished assisting her with all the various pieces and stepped back, they stood in blushing awe at the figure she had cut. They had bowed formally, thanking her for the opportunity to serve. She had picked the pieces meticulously to act as both statement and challenge: powerful and feminine, traditional and daring, a warrior, and all woman. And with her she brought the greatest of Yamanouchi's charges; each student was sworn to protect it with their lives. It was an honour to serve.

Yori smiled to herself at the reactions her carefully chosen garments elicited. Hirotaka swallowed nervously while Ron simply gawked. Dai Sensei's wah could not be shaken; although she could sense his amusement, this was a time of sober seriousness. The other instructors glanced at each other; even the stoic Hanzo raised an eyebrow. Carolyn covered her mouth, but the twinkle in her eyes belied her laughter and approval.

Yori bowed low as she arrived, first to Dai Sensei, next to Carolyn Possible and lastly to the instructors and stood to the side of the dais, just below the Master of the Ninja school of Mount Yamanouchi. Hirotaka had long since regained his composure, but Ron continued to stare with his mouth wide open. Yori had to suppress a strong urge to giggle. She was very please by his reaction.

"Daughter of Toshimaru," Dai Sensei intoned. "Are you willing to take up the honour of this school?"

"Hai, Dai Sensei," Yori said, facing the old man and bowing deeply. "It would be my honour to do so."

"Then I declare that the competition commence with the Trial of Strength!"

Ron's mouth snapped shut as he glanced about. "You know, it's awfully quiet for such a good build up, Master Sensei. You'd think that there'd be some cheering, or clapping at least...." He faded off after turning back to the flat stares of the instructors behind the kindly old man. "Eehh-heheh.... sorry."

"Each of you will spar with an instructor. The rest of us will act as judges. You must last the entire thirty minute bout within a defined ring. Being unable to continue the bout means failure, as does stepping outside of the ring. If the instructor falls or is forced from the ring, it is an immediate win. Hirotaka, your partner shall be Cook Sensei." Hirotaka resisted the urge to lift an incredulous eyebrow. Dai Sensei turned to the blond. "Stoppable-san, you shall face off with Hanzo-sensei." Ron gulped, looking at the stern kuji-in master. Dai Sensei's gaze suddenly sharpened. "Are you ready?"

"Hai, Dai Sensei." Hirotaka replied immediately. The old man's eyes turned to Ron.

"Uh... yeah..." Ron stopped and visibly shook himself. "The Ronster is always ready! I'll sting like a butterfly and float like a.... How's that go again?" Yori and Carolyn covered their mouths even as Dai Sensei's crow's feet wrinkles that edged his eyes deepened. Cook Sensei and Hanzo Sensei dropped their hiking gear with the other instructors and walked away from the dais, heading to the centre of the demarcated squares.

"Rufus-san?" Yori called out before Ron turned to follow. Rufus popped out of one of Ron's hidden pockets with an answering chitter. "Please, would you do me the honour of waiting with me?" Rufus looked up at his friend.

"Yeah, go on, buddy. Keep Yori company, okay?"

"Uh-huh, Uh-huh," Rufus replied. he scrambled down Ron's legs to the ground. There he paused and turned to his friend. He put his paw on Ron's foot. "Good-luck!" Rufus then ran to Yori, and scurried up her outstretched hand as she knelt down. He settled on her right shoulder as she stood. She cast Hirotaka a glance as he followed Cook Sensei, but kept her eyes on Ron as he hurried after the kuji-in instructor. Rufus looked at her.

"No worry," Rufus said. Yori nodded.

"Oooh, I get it now! Those squares are the rings. But shouldn't a ring be round? I mean, really..." Ron said as he arrived at the ring and stepped in after the imposing Japanese kuji-in master; Hirotaka followed suit, entering the ring that stood before his tent after Cook Sensei. Behind, Yori's face turned slightly red from suppressed her laughter. Even Dai Sensei allowed himself a small smile.

Hanzo Sensei took position just slightly north of centre. Ron stood a few paces away, relaxed and ready. Several floating cameras hovered around the ring, one directly above and one behind each of their shoulders. He glanced over to the other ring, seeing Hirotaka square off with Cook Sensei. Ron wished he was fighting Master Lunch Lady. Whereas he'd always had fun fighting her for food, Hanzo Sensei was curt and taciturn. No movement was wasted, as were emotions.

"Opponents ready?" Dai Sensei's voice cut across the field. The kuji-in master settled into an aggressive stance, sitting low with legs wide apart. Ron settled into his customary loose stance, a lazy version of Kim's traditional kung fu stance, fist pulled back, hand blade out. Ron looked into Hanzo's eyes; they reflected his own face. Ron turned to look at Yori for a brief moment and he put on his serious face and turned back to his opponent.

"Fight!"

Hanzo exploded toward him, hunched, hands curled. Shorter than Ron by several inches, his small but powerful frame bunched as he charged. Murderous intent flared around him, a corona of harm and promised hurt. Ron yelped and did what he did best.

He ran.

As fists came his way he ducked, swerved and fell back, rolling away from whirling and striking feet. Hanzo was using pure Monkey Fist. None of the newer forms of the Saint's Fist or the Axe Fist that made up the rest of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar(4). For some odd reason Ron felt like the beleaguered Count Dooku when he faced off against the tiny but ingeniously agile Yoda in Star Wars Episode Two. Hanzo's attacks were fast and furious, coming from unexpected positions and directions. Fist, elbow, knee, foot, it was all Ron could do to keep up. He leapt back as Hanzo stretch out in a diving punch. His foot hit the ridge of rocks marking the ring edge and Ron windmilled his arms for balance, throwing himself to the side as the ninja came up with a double roundhouse kick. The minutes wore on, and Ron continued to move without even mounting a single attack. His chocolate eyes widened as he sensed a sudden shift in stance and backed away hurriedly as Hanzo sprang forward with a hand axe combination that was pure Pek Kwar.

Around the ring the small Asian man drove the blond, never landing a blow, but also never being hit by one. Ron could see the sweat dripping from the instructor's face as the man suddenly stood upright and attacked with a completely different set of moves. Mantis? Ron though as he moved away from another hand and leg combination trap. But the footwork was not quite right; Hanzo was also holding back with his left hand. He decided it must be a mix of Mantis and Lost Monkey without the nervous simian gestures. Lost Monkey used deception to lure the opponent into believeing the deception. He refused to be drawn in. He knew a fight was not a fight if only one person attacks and the other retreats. The only thing he tried not to concede to was Hanzo's attempts to corner him.

Sweat began to flow freely down Ron's brow as he desperately fended off Hanzo's attacks. After a few more minutes, Hanzo dropped his the Lost Monkey pretense and switched styles to Okinawan karate. Viciously efficient and straightforward, Hanzo began driving Ron toward the corner nearest the dais. As he backed away from a rapid series of roundhouse kicks, Ron's heels caught on the ring's border once again. Sensing victory, the ninja surged forward, executing a perfect double kick.

Yori gasped in concern even as Rufus jumped up and down, throwing punches and chittering excitedly.

Perfect if not for a sudden flare of blue light from Ron's eyes as he charged between the first and second kick, slamming a two fisted punch directly into Hanzo's belly.

Rufus cheered, dancing on the Yori's shoulder.

"He landed a blow," she whispered, too low for anyone to hear, except Rufus. "A disabling blow, on Hanzo the Wraith..."

Ron's brown eyes widened in shock as he looked at the ninja master lying on the ground gasping for breath.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" Ron knelt beside the man, who waved him off with a hand. Across the field, Ron saw Master Lunch Lady launching a fresh assault on Hirotaka.

"Time!" called out Dai Sensei. After a minute more, Hanzo's breath evened out and he stood, bowing shakily to Ron, who returned it.

_Did he just bow a little lower than usual?_ Ron wondered. _Naw, can't be._

"Please wait while we confer," said Dai Sensei, before turning to his fellow instructors and Carolyn. They spoke in low muted tones. The cameras kept a respectful distance. Cook Sensei and Hanzo rejoined them and it was several more minutes of quiet discussion before Cook Sensei and Hanzo Sensei bowed to the wizened old man. Dai Sensei turned to the two youths as the instructors took up their hiking gear again, taking the murmurs of appreciation from their instructors with smooth visages.

"The first Trial has concluded." Dai Sensei paused. "The Second Trial, the Trial of the Spirit, now begins. It is said that whoever becomes Dai Sensei or consort, must have the Heart of Toshimaru. Both of you have been taught the history and traditions of our school. You will meditate on what you think would encapsulate that spirit and write it down with pen and paper which we will provide. Please." Dai Sensei gestured and two Sensei unfamiliar to Ron stepped forward.

"Aw man! I'm in the middle of a ninja battle and I have to write a pop essay? That tanks!" The instructor handing him his paper and pen glared. "Uh, I mean, thanks! For the pen and paper..."

Hirotaka took up the instruments and immediately began writing. Ron glanced at him, then at Yori, where Rufus remained. The mole rat noticed and gave him a thumbs-up sign. The blond smiled and looked up at the clear blue sky, a bright blue that seemed to reach endlessly up into heaven. He felt a settling of sorts in his mind, and took up the pen. He turned one way, then another, looking for something to write on. Finally, he simply walked over to use the dais as a desk and began to write, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth.

He wrote for a moment of two and handed the paper back to Dai Sensei without comment. Hirotaka glanced up in surprise, but continued to write.

Ron sat down, already tired of whole affair. And there was one more trial after this! For a moment he wondered what he was doing here, but as that thought entered, his eyes lit on Yori's calm face. As if she felt the fleeting weight of his eyes, she eyes turned toward him, her face unchanged, yet... glowing. He grinned at her, plucked a long stemmed grass. Rufus scampered down from Yori's shoulder and jumped atop Ron, eventually curling up in one of the hidden pockets in Ron's ninja garb. Placing the stem between his teeth, he carefully lay back, his hands clasped behind his head and stared at the clear sky.

Ron looked up at the rustle of movement to see Hirotaka handing his sheet to Dai Sensei. Ron stood as Hirotaka resumed his place before the dais, the drone cam trailing along and swinging behind him as he turned.

Dai Sensei turned to the crimson clad ninja. "Yori, step forward; please read the first one."

Yori approached and took the first sheet, Hirotaka's, from Dai Sensei and read. She smiled once and nodded a few times before handing the paper back to Dai Sensei.

"Please give your impression to Takuma Sensei." A squat bald man with a bushy moustache stepped off the dais. Yori spoke to him in low indistinct tones. At length he stepped back, as Yori returned to Dai Sensei and took Ron's paper. She read the few lines he had written and frowned. She read it for a second time, a third. The forth time, the frown was replaced by a scowl of concentration.

Yori's sudden peal of laughter cut through the silent glade as the instructors looked on incredulously. Hirotaka wore a mask of shock on his own face. Yori was laughing so hard that she had doubled over, one hand clutching the paper, the other wrapped around her stomach.

Ron looked around in a panic.

"That's... not a good sign... is it?" He asked. Dai Sensei simply shrugged as Yori struggled to control herself. In a few moments, she spoke to Takuma Sensei, suppressing giggles all the while. Takuma, to his credit remained impassive and gave nothing away. Instead of returning to her position, Yori turned, and with a clatter leapt into the bamboo and was gone. Dai Sensei turned and along with Carolyn Possible and the other instructors, spoke to Takuma Sensei. They conversed for several minutes before Dai Sensei returned to the edge of the dais.

"The Trial of the Spirit is complete. Now begins the Trial of the Soul. It is very simple. Find the Yori. Begin!"

Hirotaka paused only for a moment before exploding into the long stalks, disappearing in the same spot as Yori had just a few minutes ago.

"Uh, Master Sensei? How am I supposed to do that? I mean, she's a totally badical ninja, and I'm just... just..." Ron trailed off.

Dai Sensei gazed at him for a moment.

"Just what, Stoppable-san?" he asked gently.

"Well, just,... Ron!" he eventually burst out.

"And that will be enough," Dai Sensei nodded with a small smile. Ron thought about it for a moment, before his face lit up and he jogged off. He turned as he reached the edge of the bamboo forest and turned to wave.

"Thanks, Master Sensei!" Ron turned and disappeared into the dense vertical stalks.

Carolyn stepped forward, joining Dai Sensei in gazing at the spot where Ron had disappeared.

"What do you see, Carolyn-chan?"

"A darkness deeper than the Marianas Trench, engulfing this school. Maybe the world, Ichi-kun." Dai Sensei nodded in agreement. "What about the trial?" Carolyn wondered.

"Even the goshawk must learn some day to fly and to hunt," he shrugged. "I fear Hirotaka will not like the outcome of this competition, since Ron has already won two of three trials. Ron has the edge here, with his great heart and his mystical monkey power."

"Hirotaka's important to the survival of Yamanouchi. We've seen that. I hope he's as graceful in defeat as his martial arts."

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -

Yori knelt atop the dense foliage of a Mountain brush and looked down into a valley. She smiled. Hirotaka may be a formidable fighter, but his constant travels and knowledge seeking had atrophied his hunting skills. She had discarded her garb for the traditional black shozuku of the Yamanouchi ninja, using the various pieces to decoy Hirotaka.

Her plan now was not to be caught by either competitor. This too would be a statement and a challenge. A statement of her skills, a challenge to tradition. Yori still felt some sadness at her chosen course of action, as if it was a sort of betrayal of Dai Sensei's trust. Yet she had used all her skills in eluding Hirotaka; it was not he that she worried about.

Ron, for all his buffoonery, was a natural when it came to the mystical monkey power. It gave him extraordinary powers that included an insane amount of luck. And those were factors that Yori could not easily counter. So she had decided to head towards the Grey Vale, the sacred grounds of the Yamanouchi school, where Toshimaru perfected the amalgam of the Shaolin Monkey Fist, the Great Saint style and the Axe Hand style into the Yamanouchi Tai Sheng Pek Kwar it was today.

The founder, oddly, had suffered the same wanderlust as Hirotaka, and had travelled to China searching for martial arts masters who would be willing to teach. He had lost his stiff and rigid Japanese upbringing along the way and had gained the eternal friendship of several famous fighters, as well as gaining the Lotus Blade. Charged by its maker to protect the sword, Toshimaru had returned to Japan, only to discover that his countrymen scorned his new ways. So hostile was his homecoming that he sought refuge on Mount Yamanouchi, carving out the school's hidden places with the Blade.

Yori froze for a moment. What was that? A glint of metal in the Grey Valley?

Where were the sentries? Who would dare enter the sacred grounds of Yamanouchi? The ninja hesitated for a moment.

She then caught a glimspe of... orange? Instantly, she knew the competition would have to wait.

Yori shifted her grip on the Lotus Blade's scabbard and leapt into the trees.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -

Hirotaka suppressed a curse as he swung around a tree, lightning quick, only to find the red helmet that Yori had worn. He felt a sudden urge to kick the helmet, but remembered that the item was atreasure of the school and simply let it lie. He sat down with a sigh. This was the eighth false trail he had followed. By now he was sure that Yori had changed out of her previous... costume... and must be wearing her traditional mission clothing, the regular black ninja garb. Each false trail had ended with a piece of the crimson armour she had worn. The helmet was the last.

He had thought he'd seen Yori's true skill and speed. The year before the arrival of Stoppable-san and his own infection of wanderlust, several young students had become caught on a ledge with a hungry snowcat. In a flash, Yori had fast-stepped to the ledge and back as the snowcat had pounced, his teeth clashing mere inches away from her hip as she whisked the children away.

He was wrong.

Yori's lead had been meagre at the onset of the Trial, perhaps 7 minutes. Now, he wasn't even sure if the scarlet clad ninja was even on the same mountain. In those seven minutes, she had laid curling false trails, with no indication at the end of each as to her true direction or destination. Even with his skill, he could not discern her presence, smell her scent or find any indication of her passing. He sat on his haunches for a moment.

_Does she really.... love... that blond clown?_ he wondered. What else could have inspired her to such feats? He had seen the end of the blond's bout with Hanzo the Wraith. A disabling strike, right at the end. Even for all his new found speed and skill in trapping and striking, he had not been able to disable Cook Sensei, although he had landed several hits.

Of all things, it was the genuine joy with which she laughed during the second Trial that had hurt the most.

_Ah, my friend, is this the folly you choose to follow?_ When he found her, he would ask.

He gathered his wits and his strength and launched into the swaying bamboo.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -

Ron stopped as he crossed a small mountain stream. He had no idea where he was or where he was going. He was just wandering aimlessly; he could hardly call blundering around with no clear destination a search.

"What am I gonna do?" Ron sat down on a large rock by the stream. He looked up into the sky. It looked like mid-morning now. He sat for a moment.

"Do I really want to win this thing?" He thought back when he'd first met Yori. He had been selected by a rigged lottery to be sent to Japan on an exchange program. Middleton had gotten Hirotaka: smooth, suave, motorcycle riding, gum chewing, martial arts wielding Hirotaka who had even pinged Kim and Monique's hottie-radar. And Yamanouchi got him. When he'd arrived at Tokyo Airport, it was Yori who met him there; he still remembered how his heart had pounded. It had never really been like that with Kim. She was like a sister to him. Sure she was hot, and talented, and a hundred other small things that =just made her so cool and likeable. But she had a weakness for Bonnie-certified men. With him, he'd tried toattract women other than Kim, but most just never bopthered looking past the naked mole rat or his goofball antics to get to know him; they were just way to involved with their own scene to even give him the time of day.

When Kim had rebounded from Eric and attached herself to him, he felt relief that there was some girl who seemed to really truly like him. But over the course of senior year, it seemed that the whole world simply could not believe a popular attractive, confident and athletic girl like Kim could want to be with him. The worst part was that Ron also felt the same; that he would forever be simply a shadow of his potential. That Kim, with all her passionate care of him, even in her more snippy moments, was somehow beyond him. In her presence, all his confidence faded away, replaced forever with indolence.

With Kim he was comfortable in his laziness and mediocrity. She did everything and he tagged along, afraid that his very best friend in the world would one day stick her neck out too far and get hurt. She was the hero, he the sidekick; she the main event, he, the sideshow. He relieved tension and distracted the villain while she bagged the hard to handle people; those were their roles. It stung that people didn't remember his name; Kim was forever solicitous and protective of him. Sometimes it felt like she was an older sister watching out for her bumbling younger brother.

But with Yori, he'd always felt the confidence that he could to do better, be better. Her constant and unwavering support was both unnerving and exhilarating. He found that he didn't have to hide in the background; Yori taught him that he was the hero of his own story, not just the background of someone else's. When the Lotus Blade had been stolen by Monkey Fist, Ron had been instrumental in holding the enemy at bay in order for reinforcements to arrive. He'd even retrieved the Lotus Blade when it was thought to be lost forever, having fallen down a deep chasm. He'd then helped save the kidnapped Master Sensei when Yori had come to Middleton, pleading for his help. Eventually they discovered it was all an elaborate trap for Monkey Fist, set by the equally mad DNAmy, who was infatuated with the simian-limbed British ex-patriot.

What stung the most was when Yori finally told Kim of his heroics on his first visit to Yamanouchi; the sheer incredulous shock on Kim's face would have been comical if it hadn't hurt so much. Of course, at the time, he'd just ignored it and made a joke out of it. It was during the fight with Fukushima, a traitorous ninja who had tipped Monkey Fist off to the Lotus Blade, he'd had a flash of the mystical monkey power.

When the aliens caused his murderous intent and his Mystical Monkey Powers to come forth, he felt it was a sign regarding the fate of his relationship with Kim.

"Wait!... Mystical Monkey Power.... ties me to the Lotus Blade... Which Yori's got!" Ron looked at his hands for a moment. "But I've only ever called it to come to me, or for it to go somewhere else. Can I get it to call out to me and for it to stay in the same place?"

Ron stood up and closed his eyes, and called.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -

Nestled in a dark part of the valley between two snow-capped mountains, she came upon them.

Yori concealed herself in the shadow of one of the crags. Ten feet below her, several men in grey and purple jumpsuits seemed to be searching for something; they were sweeping handheld devices back and forth as they trudged in a rough line across the narrow vale. At their hips they had automatic pistols. Behind them came a much smaller group of men in orange jumpsuits. Each held a square box about a foot to a side and wore odd metallic gauntlets that had cables attached to a small pack on their waists. Following last was a large lorry with something large and mechanical secured on the flatbed and covered with a protective cloth. Yori's eye narrowed as she spied what was perched atop the covered cargo.

Squatting, sitting or lying down was a troop of about thirty monkeys in ninja garb.

Monkey Fist! Yet how could this be? Only Monkey Fist had trained ninja monkeys. In his last fatal endeavour to to discover and acquire the Ultimate Weapon, the Han. Discovering that it was paired with a dark nemesis, he raised and formed a contract with Yono the Destroyer, knowing that the two forces would eventually seek each other out. Dai Sensei and Carolyn-san had already felt the tremors in the fabric of the world's harmony even before Monkey Fist's own search and had sent Yori to find the Ultimate Weapon. She had ranged across the world until she came across the Han in the form of an infant girl. They named her Hana and placed her in the care of the greatest living hero of Yamanouchi, Ron Stoppable. Ron, without knowledge of Hana's powers had taught her the joy of life in the form of a children's show, The Flippies, and with a simple dance, Hana defeated Monkey Fist. With his master defeated, the contract with the Yono required fulfillment. Monkey Fist had paid the price by being turned to stone.... Yori felt a lurch in the pit of her stomach... in this very valley!

Below, a voluptuous, hourglass figure in an orange jumpsuit lounged on top of the truck's cabin, lifted a communication device to a dull silvered mouth grill. Silver lenses glinted in the sun. Obviously the leader, the woman lowered her device and berated some of the men who immediately saluted and scurried to obey. Yori slipped down from the crag, following the shadow of the ledge, and carefully dropped to the valley floor. She darted closer to the orange clad woman. One of the men in purple and grey shouted and waved. The whole convoy ground to a halt as several of the orange men hurried over and studied the man's readings. After a moment, one of the orange men waved at the figure atop the lorry. The orange clad woman called orders to the other grey and purple men as the boxes were being arranged by the orange men in a wide semicircle. The others began digging shallow holes in a grid pattern. Another few minutes, a second purple and grey man cried out in triumph.

"No!" Yori whispered to herself. She could feel the Lotus Blade twitch, even within the protective scabbard. It hummed with, if Yori didn't know better... anticipation?

"Will you shut it!" the woman shouted at the chattering monkeys behind her. She turned back to her device. "We've found it. Commence the attack."

In the distance, Yori could hear a massive explosion in the direction of the school. The school! Yet, she stayed still. If she ever was needed, it was here, in the Grey Vale, where Toshimaru had perfected Tai Sheng Pek Kwar in the shadow of the Yono. The orange men finished their preparations whilst the purple and grey went to the flatbed and began to release the cargo. The monkeys lit to ground and fanned out in a tight perimeter. Yori thanked the founder that she had the foresight to approach the vale from downwind. The orange leader dropped to the ground in a smooth move and walked over to the hole. The other orange jumpsuited men had placed their devices in a wide semicircle around it and began calibrating them.

Loathe to leave it behind, she did not want the Lotus Blade to fall into their hands if she were captured or killed. She lay the blade down in the thick underbrush and covered it with leaves. Yori began edging closer and slid into a shallow crevasse that curved around to where the orange goons had gathered. She wormed her way along it, past the monkeys guarding the perimeter, past the men struggling with the cargo's bindings. Soon she would be in striking distance.

Several other distant explosions echoed through the air; Yori steeled herself and concentrated upon her task, which was to hide until she could safely make her way back to the school and warn Dai Sensei of The Destroyer's return. One of the orange men called to their leader. The devices were ready.

The Orange Leader plunged her hand into the soil and grasped a metallic ring, rusted with age and pulled. The ring rose on a long metallic pole. Immediately, cracks spread out from the ring, spidering past Yori. The soil split and fell as a large stone structure began to rise out of the trembling ground. Caught on one of the rising bulwarks, Yori looked down as the orange clan goons retreated with their leader to a safer distance.

Yori stared at the demonic face carved into the doorway, recoiling in horror. The temple was shaped like the head of a monkey, roaring out its tusked aggression. The foundation was carved into hands upon which the head rested. Two enormous fangs jutted out from the lower jaw, framing the landing that topped a short flight of wide stairs. Resting on the flat crown of the Temple by the Ring was a robed figure and a statue: Monkey Fist. His terrified eyes and the contortions of his simian like hands and feet made Yori shudder.

The perimeter of ninja moneys jumped, screamed and hooted at the sight of their beloved master.

"The dark temple of the Yono," she hissed. Swallowing bitter tears Yori understood something; the competition would not end, but it had ended for her. And it was the ending of a dream. Yori still carried her fear from the last time she had faced the Yono, along with Dai Sensei, Kim Possible and Ron-san... _Oh Ron-san!_ She knew what was needful. She gathered her courage and waited.

Below a chant rose from the orange clad woman.

"Sae Mee Ahnn

Mon Kae Ala

Yoh Noh

A Wae Kehn Ser Vahnt

Yoh Noh!"

Immediately the robed statue was engulfed in a flare of sickly yellow light, and disappeared, only to reappear at the top of the temple steps.

Even as the robed figure reappeared, the woman in orange shouted a single word.

"NOW!!"

Five beams of light flashed from the boxed equipment. The beams struck the robed figure, surrounding it with a bright yellow-orange sphere, holding it suspended in the air but otherwise unharmed.

The orange and the grey and purple suited people stared in fear and awe.

"Well," the Orange clad woman said with a smug voice. "Looks like we've caught ourselves a little monkey."

"_**-What is this!-"**_ roared the robed figure as orange fire engulfed it. The voice, deep and menacing shook the ground. The robe burned away to reveal a surly looking monkey with a a large head and jaw, its small squat body clad in a gold bordered purple silk shirt and pants. Its eyes shone with the same orange glow. It's mouth opened and snarled. He raised his hands and his eyes shone with power, yet as his power flared, the sphere of light contained it, causing it to roil chaotically inside, obscuring the monkey from view. After a moment came the sound of the whistling wind and the swirling power was sucked into the monkey's mouth.

"You dare to confine Yono the Destroyer? You _**-DARE-**_?" Yori realising what was happening, quickly drew on her kuji-in; her hands moved quickly as she invoked her inner chi and formed the hand signs: Kai-Zai-Rin(5)! The air reverberated with Yono's anger. A rock nearby exploded from the force of his roar. Although the other men cringed and clapped their hands to their bleeding ears, the orange clad woman simply cocked her head and raised her voice.

"Yono the Destroyer! I am Agent Orange! My master wishes to meet with you, but is indisposed right now. He offers you the one thing that you have been denied all these centuries; the sure destruction of the Yamanouchi school! But speak with him and know that his word will be true!"

Yono stopped to consider. "Who is your master?" he said at length.

"He is known as the Demon Blade, and has the power of darkness," replied Agent Orange. A series of distant explosions sounded. "As you can hear, have already begun to make good on this promise. Just speak to my Lord and I am sure that he will grant you the final blow."

"Release me and I will speak to him."

"Swear that you will do us no harm before such a time."

"What?!"

"What surety do we have that you will keep your word? You are the Lord of the Dark Path of the Yono. Surely deception is but merely a tool for your conquests."

"How little do you know Yono the Destroyer. But very well. I shall not harm to you or yours until such time as I have spoken to your master. This I swear on the dark path of the Yono." Yori prepared to depart to warn the school.

Agent Orange made a curt gesture and the field surrounding Yono disappeared. He floated sedately to the ground. With a sudden motion, Yono lashed out a hand in Yori's direction and closed his fist. A sudden unseen force bound Yori's arms to her side tight. With a jerk, she was floated down to the ground and was roughly deposited on the ground between Agent Orange and The Destroyer.

"And bring this little one along," the simian smiled. "She is Toshimaru's heir. Perhaps she can be of use."

Only then did Yori know fear.

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At the first explosion, Hirotaka stopped.

_What the hell was that?_

He paused only for a moment before stopping and changing his direction. He almost immediately found the trail he was searching for, one that would take him to a ledge that overlooked the Yamanouchi school. He skidded to a stop as he cleared the underbrush and stared in shock.

On the mountain nearby, he could clearly see the school and its grounds. Dense black smoke rose up from one of the side buildings. Four large robots which looked like bipedal eggs with rocket launchers for arms advanced on the main gates, followed by a swarm of grey and purple suited men wielding automatic rifles. The chatter of machine gun fire could be heard. Sharp cracks of long range rifles echoed.

Immediately he made his decision. Yori was his friend, but the school was his life, and where his duty lay. He leapt down off the ledge without a backward glance.

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As a distant rumble resonated through the air, Ron increased his speed. He could feel the insistent tingle of the Lotus Blade strongly in his mind as he sprinted through he underbrush. Actually it felt as if the tingle had become even more insistent. He was pretty sure that wasn't thunder he'd heard, with the sky completely clear. With all his past experiences with exploding lairs, he knew what it sounded like; it sounded like trouble.

"Rufus buddy," Ron panted as he sprinted. Rufus popped out of the hidden pocket. "You heard that? And you feel that?"

"Uh-huh, Uh-huh! Trouble!" Rufus chittered.

Ron swerved around a tree and ducked under a large branch, never breaking stride.

"I think Yori's gonna need us, like right now-wow-wow-wow!" Ron back-pedalled skidding as he burst from the underbrush onto the short ledge; he teetered at the edge of a sheer drop, windmilling his arms, before dropping onto his back. Indistinct shouting floated up from below. Ron crawled to the edge and looked down just as the ground shuddered and a large temple rose up from the vale floor three hundred feet under the ledge.

"What's with all the monkeys? I'm always surrounded by them!" Ron cringed as he saw the perimeter of ninja clad simians. A swarm of ten purple and grey suited men were uncovering some sort of hovercraft that sat on the flatbed of a truck while orange suited men knelt by some sort of square boxed equipment. A woman in an orange outfit stood before the temple, her hands clasped before her, speaking an indistinct chant. He spied Yori, standing atop the side of the Temple. She was no longer wearing the sexy samurai outfit, but her customary matte black ninja garb. And her hands were empty. There was a sudden flash of yellow light.

Ron drew back from the ledge. The Yono. He recognized the temple. The Yono; and Yori was right in the middle of it! Below he could hear The Destroyer roaring in anger. Ron shuddered. Boy did he sound angry! The Blade. Yori needed him and the Blade!

"Here, boy! C'mon! Yori needs us!" Ron clucked his tongue, willing the Blade to him. A sudden rustle of leaves from the valley floor, a shadow shot up towards him. Bright sunlight glinted on the Blade as it spun through the air; for a moment, Ron felt a twinge of concern that the blade would tear off his clothing like last time. The blade circumscribed a graceful arc but as it neared him jerked down and struck the ground, burying its blade and turning its hilt toward him as it arrived. Ron grinned.

"Thanks," he told the Blade as he closed his hand around it and pulled it from the earth. His face turned deadly serious. Rufus scrambled out of his pocket and took up a fighting stance on Ron's shoulder. The mole rat glanced up at Ron, and saw the blond take off his funny face.

"Let's get this par-tay started!"

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(1) Naked Mole Rats come from Somalia and are like bees: evey member of a colony has a specific role to play and at the top of the totempole is the Queen. So Rufus is wondering why Yori just doesn't pick both Hirotaka and Ron as reproductive members, instead of complicating things.

(2) Sashimono: If any of you have seen a samurai movie where the warriors fight for a lord, you may have noticed that some wear this little vertical banners on their backs. There tend to be personal crests, personal flags to indicate which clan the samurai belonged to.

(3) Mons: these were personal family crests. As the Heir of Toshimaru's line, Yori uses the Founder's personal crest, or "Mon", which is a small circular stylization of the family crest, the Lotus.

(4) Tai Sheng Pek Kwar: Tai Sheng Pek Kwar is Mandarin. In Cantonese, it's closer to Dai Seung Pehk Gwa. Monkey Kung Fu is canbe found in three styles major styles, and that TSPK is the fusion of two: Hou Kuen (literally, "Monkey Fist"), Tai Seung Moon (literally, "Great Saint Style") and Pek Gwa (literally "Slap Hand". I've always joke that it means "Bitch Slap")

(5) Kuji-in: Ninja magic. Not like the Naruto Zodiac Signs, kuji-in has only four elemental affinities, and has 81 secondary hand signs and nine primaries. They are: Rin, Hei, Toh, Sha, Kai, Jin, Retsu, Zai, and Zen.

A/N: Yeah... this chapter took me so long, because the second half is not yet in the can and it's already 10,000 words and over. I wanted to cram the whole thing into the one chapter, but I finally relented, after looking at the entire length and split the chapter into two. Anyway, a slight departure for the Interlude; the Shego and Kim diary entries actually talk about two separate episodes, although Kim's eludes to the one Shego talks about.


	13. Chapter 13: Mountain Mayhem

A/N: Sorry for the long awaited battle of Yamanouchi!

Kim Possible © Disney

Thanks to catrlgirl, Nikkou and List of Romantics for beta work.

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_Interlude_

_Ya know, why is it that the girl has such a good sidekick? I mean Drakken isn't much of a fighter, but you'd think his inventions wouldn't exploded or self destruct or whatever so often. Like the time Princess showed up with the buffoon in tow._

_We were launching the Hyper-whatsits drone-thingy... and the buffoon comes down, with no pants.... and the gyroscope! How random is that?_

_And to think that this pants-losing -_**loser-**_ is better than Doctor D?_

_It's enough to give me a headache._

_What really ticks me off is the fact that this kid loses his pants -_**way-**_ too often around Pumpkin._

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_Why does Shego hang out with Drakken? I mean, she's got super powers, she's smart, and funny and uh... has plasma..._

_He keeps making things that are so unstable or easy to destroy. I mean, he really is smart, but destructive things don't seem to be his real forte. Mind bending things though... his inventions are phenomenal, I mean think about it. The mind switcher, the truth ray, the Silly Hat, the mind control chip... they all work really well. But he's just too lazy to dot the "eyes" and cross the "tees."_

_Ron can wipe the floor with him, and has a knack for finding the single fatal flaw of each._

_Why does a sexy mercenary like Shego stick around him? Maybe she's involved with...?_

_Ugh! _**Need brain soap!**

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**Blood and Bondage**

**Chapter Thirteen – Mountain Mayhem**

**by sweetPixiesmile**

A blue aura flashed around the blond as he leaped off the ledge, falling like a blazing blue comet. Below, two monkeys chattered together. One pointed at a statue that could be seen at the top of the Temple. The other monkey pointed at four others and motioned toward the temple; the five hurried toward the tower. The fire flashed a piecing blue, then winked out as the impact shattered the ground, cratering the rock floor for 5 feet around him. Wind and dust whistled past, blinding those nearby and obscuring the landed blond from view. The remaining monkeys charged into the murky air, screeching and screaming.

Ron frowned in concentration and the Lotus Blade morphed into an ornately carved long red oak staff with golden metal bindings on both ends.

"Whaaaaauuuuu-Ahhhhhh!" Ron shouted, holding a classic pose, one end of the staff pinned between his bicep and back, the other sticking up at an angle. The furry creatures converged.

He snapped the staff head against the two leading monkeys, knocking them down in quick succession. Using the rebound, he gripped the end and whirled the staff around, tripping several others to the ground, jumping forward he twirled, even as a monkey jumped in from behind to attack. The monkey suddenly fell on his back as a small pink blur jumped off the blond's shoulder and kicked him in the face, accompanied by a small, high pitched battlecry.

Rufus landed in a forward ready stance. He rolled his head, his tendons popping, clenched his fists, the knuckles popping ominously. The monkeys towering above him glanced at each other, then at their fallen comrade. Rufus smelled a shift of scents: fear, anger and determination. Before the monkeys could launch a new attack, he leaped into their midst.

As the other five monkeys reached the base of the temple, the middle one screeched, glancing worriedly at Agent Orange and at the battling duo behind him. Two monkeys began climbing the temple as the other three waited below.

When Ron descended, Yori shut her eyes against the swell of emotion that suddenly suffused her. Held motionless by the Yono, she prayed to all the gods she could think of for Ron's safety.

_Buddha and all the Shinto Spirits! Ward him now and give me strength!_

Agent Orange stared incredulously as Ron knocked the monkeys about.

"Agent Orange, ma'am," called out one of the WEE goons. "You want us to attack that guy, or prep the hoverpod?"

"Five on the pod! The rest, attack! You and you! Join the fun!" Two of the orange goons clashed their metal gauntlets together. As the power gloves began to glow the same sickly yellow as the devices, they headed for the whirling blond. Suddenly a bright metallic dart flew past and Yono snatched back his outstretched hand. Ron had changed the Lotus blade into a dart rope and flung it over fifty feet, nearly spearing the simian power's hand. The aura surrounding Yori winked out.

"Missed, you blond moron!" Agent Orange taunted him.

A muffled crunch sounded between Agent Orange and The Yono, a sudden billowing smoke engulfing them. Agent Orange turned.

"The girl!"

"Gone," shrugged The Destroyer looking idly at the hand that had nearly been skewered. The other nearby agents coughed and gasped but the orange woman turned left and right, searching. The men stumbled about, waving their hands in an attempt to dissipate the smoke. It faded as quickly as it came; Yori was no longer to be seen

Yono simply stood there, crossing his arms, a maliciously smug grin on his face.

Ron whirled, jerking the dart back toward him. Catching it with his off hand, the rope changed into a paddle, the dart into a small pink ball. He gave the ball a few hard whacks to wind up, then with the ball rhythmically smacking the paddle, Ron gave a few hard hits. The ball struck one monkey in the eye, another in the elbow, and third in the groin.

"There!" shouted Agent Orange. A dark blur was moving rapidly through the tree branches toward the cliff flanked vale entrance. The woman snapped her fingers. The three remaining orange goons clashed their gauntlets together; orange fire spewed from their elbows and they flew into the air.

Agent Orange stared at The Destroyer.

"If you can't even take down two youngsters, I can't imagine your master's worth talking to," The Destroyer grunted with a shrug.

"Fine." Agent Orange turned and seized one of the boxed devices. She turned to the furred figures being knocked to the ground by the blond. "Monkeys, get the girl, the girl!"

The simians turned even as Ron knocked another two to the ground and sprinted for the entrance. At that moment, Ron back-pedalled as the WEE goons arrived. They snapped their sidearms from their hips and began firing. The blond dove behind a rock, followed by Rufus. Bullets ricocheted off the stone with sharp cracks.

"Holy! They've got guns!"

High above, beyond them, Yori jumped and jumped, willing her legs to greater speed.

_I've got to make it.... I have to warn Dai Sensei..._

But as she neared the entrance, the three orange goons flew past and landed before her, forcing her to stop as they squared off, blocking her path. They closed in as one, their fists moving in concert. Yori ducked and wove, blocking, blocking. They had been well trained; there was no break in their pattern as they drove her back from the where the sheer cliffs ended in a five metre wide defile.

The middle acted as the piston, his fists churning in rapid straightforward strikes. The ones on the left and right alternated with straights to keep her boxed and sweeping hooks to prevent her from hitting the middle. Behind her, the remaining eight monkeys began to arrive. Yori spared a thought: she wished she'd brought her war fans!

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Hirotaka landed near a shinobi(1) who threw three kunai around the corner and was rewarded with a sharp cry. There were several ninjas taking cover by the white stucco wall. Wounded were being tended by their unscathed comrades, but most bore makeshift bandages. Bullets snapped past; bits of wood plaster and stone sprayed off the corner.

This was insane! Who would attack the home of the Yamanouchi ninja, the most famous and secretive of ninja schools. And at their own home, with a full arsenal of weapons-

A massive explosion that shook the ground interrupted Hirotaka's thoughts.

_No! They couldn't have..._

A flicker of movement. Hirotaka whirled, his axe hand slicing through a curved ceramic rectangle. He blinked. Roof tiles. Tiles, shaken loose by the earth-shaking explosion began to rain down on the ninjas taking cover by the building wall. Pieces of plaster, wood and ceramic began to fall from the sky. A large section of wall crashed to the ground nearby, flinging up pebbles and stinging sand. Black, acrid, billowing smoke rose in a dark column against the brilliant blue sky, marking the destruction of the Yamanouchi armoury.

"The enemy...!"

"They seem to have taken the brunt of the explosion," reported the man by the wall. "Bodies are everywhere. A few ours, mostly theirs. The robots are still near the explosion." The man leaned back. "They are crazy, what is wrong with them?"

"What do you mean?" Hirotaka asked, turning to him.

"The men, they take no cover. I ambushed one and his fellows cut him down in their attempt to kill me!"

"I had to dismember another before he stopped moving. They are like zombies from a movie, it is not possible!" said another, a kunoichi(2) nearby.

"They must be on drugs or something..." Hirotaka mused. The kunoichi shook her head.

"No, I sliced both his jugulars and he bled out, but he continued to move!" she said, her eyes dilated with fear.

"Dai Sensei, does anyone know..?" Hirotaka stopped as the first man shook his head.

"He hasn't been seen since the whole thing started."

"Hirotaka-san, what's that...?" asked a ninja beside him, pointing over his shoulder.

"Ah?" Hirotaka turned again. Behind him floated a hover cam. Hirotaka's eyes opened wide. With a flash of his arm, he snatched it from the air and stared into the lens.

"Hello? Hello! Administrator-san!"

"The name's Wade, I'm not supposed to talk to the competitors, er.... Hirotaka-san?"

"Have you not been watching?"

"Look, the system's automated and working fine. I've got bit of a situation here in Middleton..."

"The school is under attack!"

"What!" The tinny voice was laden with shock. "Oh my god..."

"Wade-san! Can you see Dai Sensei anywhere?"

"What the-... half the network's down and I didn't get a notice? Must be some sort of jamming.. Gimme a sec!"

"Hirotaka! The robots are coming this way!" The ninja paused only for a moment.

"You!" he pointed at a ninja with the armband of the perimeter guard. "Sekai-san? Go and send us all the shinobi you find. Tell them to hold... uh, the archery dojo, the zen garden. And the wall near the bell tower." the man nodded and sprinted off.

"You, er.... Akemi-san? Gather the children, get as many of the senior students to help and escort them to safety.... take the 'ice and fire' route." The woman nodded and also disappeared.

"The rest of you. We must hold them here, defend the retreat-"

"Hirotaka-san!" Wade's voice cut across him.

"Yes?"

"You've fought the first wave. Spysat shows two more on their way in three helos, inbound from the northwest. You're lucky, there's no additional mechs, but there sure are a hell of a lot more troops. And I haven't seen Dai Sensei."

"Wade-san, we need your help. Be our eyes, ears and mouth, please, I beg you!"

"Okay. Okay! Tell me what you need."

"A map, with troops marked, theirs and ours. After that, communication with any large group of Yamanouchi ninja"

"Hmm. Tricky. Give me two minutes." Hirotaka ran his hand through his hair and spoke to the remaining ninja.

"We must pin the enemy here to give our V.I.P.s and the children time to escape. The judges and Dai Sensei must be on their way, but we must hold them here."

"Okay, here we are," Wades voice cut in. The camera suddenly flashed a three dimensional map on the ground. Four large red marks congregated at the large smoking crater of the arsenal building; a number of purple marks filled the front of the school, most unmoving. It was like looking at an autopsy of a battle.

The enemy had breached the gatehouse, destroyed the arsenal and one of the main buildings, the one that held their communications devices. How had they known exactly which buildings to destroy? A shiver went down his spine. Black marks were congregating together and opposing the enemy in a desperate attempt to slow the enemy advance. Three large purple marks were approaching quickly.

"Got news for you Hirotaka," Wade's voice was smug. "There's a feed from one of the mechs going to the other robots. Looks like some sort of remote. If you distract the pilot and plant some modified hover-cams, I can try to stop the feed, maybe hack the robots."

Hirotaka paused for a moment then took a deep breath.

"Here is my plan..."

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Far behind her, Ron and Rufus huddled behind a boulder as bullets continued to snap past. They saw the monkeys beginning to converge on Yori.

"Rufus, I'll cover you, you go help Yori, okay?" Rufus nodded. Ron concentrated and the Lotus Blade became a boomerang. "On three. One. Two. Three!" Rufus exploded away from the rock as Ron whipped the boomerang. It flew around the rock and arced toward the WEE goons as they turned to track Rufus. The Blade got their attention when it knocked two of them down, bouncing off their heads before heading back to Ron. Bullets snapped by as Ron ducked back behind the rock.

He snatched up some pebbles and transformed the Blade into a slingshot with a forearm brace. He counted shots; when he heard a pause, he whipped around one side of the boulder, pulling back and releasing a rock the size of his thumb. He dove back as the surprised men fired a volley of bullets. A sharp thump told him that he was successful.

_Two more to go_, he told himself.

The remaining two panicking men fired their guns until the slides blew back and locked. Empty! They fumbled for more clips.

Ron whipped back around and fired off two more rocks in quick succession, the rocks smacking the men in the head. They fell in boneless heaps, but as Ron fired his second rock, a shadow came upon him. He wasn't sure how he knew. Perhaps it was the displacement of air or the shrieking whistle of impending doom.

Instinctively, he dove forward, rolling quickly to his feet as a glowing metal gauntlet grazed the back of his head and pulverized the boulder he'd been hiding behind. Once his refuge, the rock exploded, shards of granite spraying in all directions.

Near the vale entrance, Yori was being driven back, inexorably, inch by gruelling inch. Sweat stung her eyes from dodging the blows of the three men with glowing power gloves. Her senses warned her not to let the glow touch her. Somehow, the fist patterns seemed familiar... There was a screech behind her and Yori flipped aside. A monkey had leaped for her back but missed her by inches. A power gauntlet caught the poor simian directly on the side of his head and with an audible crack, the skull was torn open. Red blood fountained, the body falling beneath the tread of orange and black boots. The orange suited men drove relentlessly toward the desperate kunoichi. Any monkey unfortunate enough to get in their way, the gauntlets crushed. She had moved into the whole remaining troop of seven monkeys and was dodging, blocking, twisting, leaping, never staying still, trying to get away from the orange power gloved men. She saw the blood and frowned.

_Ruthless. Not good._

Suddenly, a path opened before her. Rufus, blazing a blue aura, bowled over the remaining monkey before her and leaped with a screech onto the face of the centre of the orange trio, his four-inch buck teeth sinking into the man's nose. He fell back with a cry.

Yori immediately reversed, timing the broken pattern. She tapped the right man's elbow up and away as she slid aside his fist, forcing him off balance. As the left man's left arm came around in a wide seep, she stepped inside and under the glowing fist. She slammed stiffed fingers into the exposed armpit, once, twice, then slipped behind the stumbling, gasping man. She kicked him in the kidneys, sending him stumbling into his colleague's two-handed hammer. The clasped gauntlets tore into the armoured chest like paper. A sharp distinct crack punctuated the blow. Rufus jumped away as the centre man's gauntlets grasped for him. He landed on Yori's shoulder and slid down to the ground.

_The gauntlets are too dangerous. Can't touch them!_

The men clashed them together and the sickly yellow glow intensified. The remaining monkeys closed in, surrounding the pair. The orange men circled, opposite of them.

"Yabe(3)!" Yori muttered as she and Rufus settled into stances.

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According to the one of the remaining perimeter guards that had joined Hirotaka, the robots had simply dropped down the sky, giving no warning at all and simply started blasting buildings and everything that moved. The perimeter watch was called in to reinforce the compound's security and as they left their posts, the troops were airdropped, flown in by nape-of-the-earth pilots in large troop vertical-take-off-landing carriers.

Hirotaka had thought the combined might of Yamanouchi would have pushed out the intruders, but the fighting had turned into fierce close combat. The purple and grey suited enemies were not very skilled but they were fearless. Even after taking multiple fatal wounds, only near complete dismemberment caused them to collapse. They were more than willing to sacrifice their own comrades if it meant killing ninja. Already, many of the Yamanouchi family lay in bullet riddled heaps or were torn limb from limb from the grey and purple suicide grenade attacks.

"Where the hell are the grenadiers?" the sweating ninja asked the float camera.

"They've encountered stiff resistance in their flanking manoeuvrer," Wade replied, "and are pinned down between the archery range and the cafeteria. They can't get line of sight on the robots."

Ninjas could hide from the eye, but not from thermal imaging cameras. Not without their new sneak suits. There was no choice.

Hirotaka looked at the eight men and five women with him.

"We must stop the robots, they give too much edge to the intruders. Three teams. You," he pointed at three men and one woman, "team one. You," two men and three women, "team two. The rest with me, team three. Team one, you draw the robots toward the rock garden. They must be running out of those mini missiles, but they still have plenty of bullets. Grab some ordinance from the downed enemy. Team two, you back up team one. Us, team three, will ambush them at the rock garden with Wade-san's modified hover cameras." Hirotaka paused, looking intently at the strained faces of his brothers and sisters, knowing that his words were sending some of them to their deaths. He would grieve later. Each nodded their understanding as he looked at them. "Wade-san, how far out is the third wave?" The last carrier had deposited another sixty of these death crazed grey and purple suits. The ninja had whittled the number down to about twenty through cunning and the use of the enemy's own weapons.

"About ten minutes. You don't have much time," the voice came from the camera that floated by his head.

"Let's go."

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The sky was way too cheerful for such a day, thought Keiko as she mounted the narrow path that lead through the perpetually snow covered hot springs. As she crested the rise, she paused, waving the line of younger students and children on. Ahead, several of the older students helped the young ones continue, the long trek beginning to take it's toll o the smallest members of the Yamanouchi School.

"Keiko-onee-sama(4), I'm tired," complained a small girl as she trudged past. Keiko slid beside the little one, walking along and allowing the girl to grasp her hand.

"I know, Yoriko. We have to have just a little more to go, okay?" The little girl nodded the two short ponytails on the top of her head sticking straight up. Keiko sighed and drew the girl aside.

"Here," she said as she turned and squatted down, waving at the little one with her hands. The girl silently climbed onto her back and wrapped her arms around her neck. Keiko straightened and turned back to look at the trail they had just climbed. Scattered along the slightly shaded and narrow cliff side path, the students of Yamanouchi plodded on, marching in small clumps. She smiled slightly, seeing Shiro already carrying two small boys on his shoulders. He walked past with a small smile and she nodded back at him.

When the school was attacked, her training had taken over and the older students had quickly formed into five man teams, calling to each other as they raced to their emergency zones. The youngsters, just as well drilled as they had rushed to their off-campus meeting areas. When a senior ninja, Akemi, had flash stepped by, they were told to move out on the old "fire and ice" route, the path that led to a plateau of volcanic hot springs. The entrance to the plateau was easily defensible and the plateau itself was dotted with fissures where the students could hide. There, they could await word of what to do next.

And to think, an hour ago, Keiko was revelling at the sight of Yori-sempai in her provocative armour. Keiko sighed.

The five-mile hike had not been easy. They moved slowly, and although mostly hidden by overhangs and foliage, the path was winding and narrow. Keiko turned and followed her friend past the last few bends. She rounded a tall rock that marked the entrance to the plateau and sighed. Suddenly there were shrieks behind them. Keiko ran back to the narrow defile that led into the plateau and gasped, even as the children hurried through.

A large craft of some sort was hovering near the stone arch near a waterfall a mile down the path. Four ropes unfurled on either side of the craft and men were quickly sliding down them and onto the exposed stone formation. As the men landed, they formed up and rushed up the path.

"Kuso(5)!"

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Ron blocked a glowing haymaker, deflecting it and snapped the end of the Lotus Blade around, once again a staff, forcing the second man away. Sweat dripped down his forehead. This couldn't last forever. He was quickly running out of strength now. He'd been fighting for his life for the last ten minutes. Behind him he could hear the last five pistol-wielding goons shouting to each other as they raced to complete the preparations on the large hoverpod.

_Oh crap. Time for desperate measures!_

As the orange men backed a bit for another series of attack, Ron changed the Lotus Blade into a string tied to the middle of two heavy flat disks. He snapped the spinning disks at one of the men, who knocked it to the ground with a slap.

"Walk the dog!" Ron shouted as the spinning disks slid under the man.

"Dog bite!" With a flick of his wrist, the disks suddenly jumped up, driving with an audible thud into the man's groin. Ron lunged at his suddenly cross-eyed orange opponent. With a vicious jumping butterfly kick, he drove the man into the dust, leaving him unconscious. The blond whirled to meet other goon as he ran in, his gauntlets swinging.

"Triple punching bag!" The yo-yo whirled, the heavy spinning disks striking the charging man, slipping past the gauntlets, scoring him in the chest, neck, and nose in quick succession. The last resulted in a huge splash of blood.

"Gravity!" Ron crowed as the suddenly wobbly-legged man crashed to his feet. He snapped the yo-yo shaped Lotus Blade into the back of the man's head with a thud.

"That's how I do it, Yo style, yo!"

He ran for the truck, trying to keep the large cab between him and the hurrying goons.

Yori ducked another leaping monkey then stopped short as a gauntlet came shearing down in front of her. She flipped over it, delivering a split kick to two monkeys, leaving them in the dirt. Only four monkeys left, along with the two orange men. Now aware of Rufus, they did not underestimate the rodent's abilities, having seen him pummel monkeys ten times his size into the ground. The two men looked each other in the eye, a sign the Yori and Rufus noticed immediately.

_Chance!_

The two men charged. One stumbled as Rufus expertly kicked a monkey into the man's legs. Yori turned to deal with the other attacker. She dropped under his short punches, sweeping his legs from under him as she lashed out with her long, powerful legs. A heel into his temple dropped the man to the ground. As Rufus took on two more monkeys, Yori flipped to the staggered man and took him down with a swift chop to the neck. She turned to the remaining three monkeys, who broke and ran in panic. Rufus turned to give Yori a thumbs-up.

An orange black boot snapped into the naked mole rat's back, punting him through the vale entrance as a sickly yellow-orange glow surrounded Yori.

"Touchdown, denied!" cackled Agent Orange. A beam emanated from the box under her arm, forming a yellow energy sphere around the ninja. The woman adjusted the lens, contracting the size of the sphere, forcing Yori to her knees.

By the time the men preparing the hoverpod realized the blond's intent, he was among them, whirling a nunchuck in his hands. He knocked them to the ground, snapping the small stick into their heads, hands, kneecaps. He then used the rice-beating implement to choke the last man from behind.

"Stop!" he shouted at the orange woman.

"Why?"

"Or I'll break his neck." He tightened his hold, causing the man to choke. "I believe we've got a Mexican stand-off."

Agent Orange sighed and snapped her arm. Ron yelped and jumped back, releasing the goon as a knife buried itself in the man's throat. The man gurgled, his legs kicking as the blond stared in shock. Blood sprayed everywhere as the knife finally nicked the jugular. Ron stumbled back in horror and fell out of the hoverpod. The orange woman walked toward the readied vehicle, dragging Yori along as if she weighed nothing. The ninja was banging at the energy sphere imprisoning her. The agent lifted the struggling ninja into the pod's cockpit, manoeuvring the glowing sphere under a rack in the back. The box slid into the rack and locked in place.

The five monkeys returned from the temple with the statue of Monkey Fist in their hands. They chittered and screamed at the woman.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up and get the statue in. And go get the other energy field emitters." Three monkeys hefted the statue into the hoverpod while the others ran off to gather the scattered boxes.

Ron stumbled to his feet, only to be push back to the ground by a firm simian hand.

"You have the mystical monkey power," Yono said, studying the blond. But Ron's eyes were not on the Destroyer; he was watching the despairing eyes of Yori, who looked at him desperately. A blue fire began to glow from his eyes.

"Get rid of him already!" Agent Orange yelled.

"I have a better idea," Yono said even as the wind began to swirl around the blond at his feet, an intense blue glow covering his whole body. With one swift motion, Yono raked an orange powered paw through the blond's aura, gripping it with his cruel claws. Ron gasped in sudden pain. Sweat dripped from his agonized face. Another glowing paw pinioned the blond in a crushing hold. The Lotus Blade's nunchuck form began to waver. Ron's eyes opened in shock, the air whirling around the two of them more violently. Leaves, dust, and small pebbles began to blow in the strange crosswind.

"What-?" Ron groaned. Yono leaned close to the motionless blond.

"Who do you think taught Toshiro how to harness the mystical side of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar," The Destroyer growled, his eyes glowing malevolently. The two monkeys returned with the containment emitters. The leader of the remaining simians turned to look at Ron, his eyes full of concern. He turned and jumped into the blood stained hoverpod.

With a swift jerk, The Destroyer tore a swathe of blue aura away from the boy.

Ron screamed.

He screamed until his lungs burned.

His muscles jerked and twisted in agony.

The nunchuck fell from his hands and dropped to the ground with a clang, reverting to an elegantly curved, single edged sword.

Yono continued to pull, the blue flame stripping from the boy in a long string, as if being pulled out by the roots. Yori, aghast at what she was seeing, pounded in shocked disbelief on the containment field, her shouting completely suppressed by the orange sphere imprisoning her. Tears ran down her face.

Ron howled, his voice cracking, his voice rising to a shriek as the last vestige of blue flame as torn from him. He collapsed to the ground, his body shivering. Yori shouted one last time and covered her face as sobs wracked her hunched body.

Yono held the blue flame in his hand, a ball of bright sapphire energy, he stared at it for a moment, contemplating it, then stuffed it into his fanged mouth and swallowed.

"Tasty," The Destroyer smacked his lips, his eyes glowing a malevolent orange.

"Try and come after us now, boy," the simian sneered a grotesque smirk at the trembling blond. He leaped into the hoverpod. Agent Orange looked at him as he growled. "You must... contain me. I cannot leave the vale without making a contract with the Path of the Yono."

"Allow me," Agent Orange laughed. She reached for one of the secured emitters and formed a sphere around the stocky simian. She carefully manoeuvred the sphere to beside Yori and locked the box on the rack.

"You!" The woman nudged a monkey with her foot. "Get rid of that." She sat at the controls and began the power-up sequence. The monkey glanced back at the prone boy, then gestured for another to help him with his load. They threw the lifeless body of the WEE goon out of the hoverpod, the corpse landing just inches from Ron. The machine hummed to life and lifted off.

As the cockpit shell closed, Agent Orange raised her communicator.

"Agent Orange to base! Mission accomplished!"

Her maniacal laughter was the last thing Ron heard as he slipped into unconsciousness.

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Sweat beaded on Hirotaka's face as his team hid on the tiled rooftops of the buildings surrounding the rock garden. They could hear the loud explosions and the buzzing hum of small gatling fire get louder as the robots approached. He checked a watch he'd picked up from one of the dead goons. Four minutes until the third wave...

_Dammit, where are they!_

A sudden loud explosion hurled a black clad body onto the grey raked stones. Another ninja flashed by, picking up the body and racing off as a line of bullets ripped through where the body had been just a moment ago. Other black clad forms raced into the garden, some turning to lob grenades, others to fire their weapons and then race away. They fell back in order. Three... five... six. Of the eight ninja, only six had made it to the rock garden. The ground shook as heavy treads followed.

Slowly, one robot rounded the building, then another. They fanned out to the sides as a third entered the area.

_C'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon_, Hirotaka ran through his head.

After a pause to spray the buildings with armour piercing shells, they stepped forward, revealing the final robot. They passed by the main building, pulling up underneath the ambush.

_Now!_

Hirotaka leaped off the tiles. There was a burst of fire. Bullets ripped past him, so close he could feel the wind of their passing. Behind him a woman's cry was cut short.

He landed on the rounded body of the fourth robot and jammed the modified float camera onto the smooth protrusion just behind the paired vents and jumped off. The other ninjas, having delivered their own modified hover cameras, leapt to the ground.

"Wade-san!" He cried even as his team scattered for cover.

"On it!" he heard as the fourth robot turned and raised the gatling pod in his direction.

_Yabe_, he thought as the multiple-muzzled turret began to spin, the mechanical whine cutting through the air.

Suddenly the robots stopped moving.

"Got it!" came Wade's tinny voice.

Smoke immediately began to pour out of them. Small explosions pushed flames through the seams of the armoured plating. A large section blew off the robot that had been about to shoot Hirotaka.

He gasped at what he saw.

"Fuku...shima...?" In the exposed cockpit was the traitor who had once attempted to steal the Lotus Blade for Monkey Fist. That was Ron-san's first visit, and the time he had saved the Lotus Blade. That was years past, and Fukushima had disappeared following his expulsion from the school! How had he come here... to this? Was it revenge? The man raised his head weakly. The explosion had burned part of his body, which was strapped into the mechanical horror.

He leaped onto the burning robot and grabbed the barely conscious man.

"Fukushima! Why?" Hirotaka shouted, tears stinging his eyes.

"The end is coming... brother," the traitor spat in his face. "We could have been gods!" the insane light in the dying man caused Hirotaka to shiver. "Unworthy.... wretches... but now... the Blade of the Demon.... comes..." With the last of his strength, Fukushima pushed a red button. As the button flashed, Hirotaka threw himself away from the slumped man he had once known as brother. An explosion, impossibly loud, slapped him into the ground.

The sky dimmed. Spots danced before his eyes. He hurt all over. Hirotaka groaned, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, his vision wavering. Hands slipped under his arms, helping him up.

"...taka-san, the third... off! Wade-san... plateau!" A ninja stood before him, shouting, his voice faint and fading in and out. A short haired man with a long nose and a long scar over his left cheekbone... Koji-san of the border-guard.

"Please," Hirotaka said, shaking his head. The sound of the man's voice throbbed like a live wire in his head, but the strange fading began to recede as the tide of clarity rose. "Again..."

"Wade-san has said that... third wave is not coming here,... the hot spring plateau!"

Hirotaka felt as if his blood had been drained from his body and pooled on the ground. His head felt light and his hands trembled slightly.

"No.... no," Hirotaka gasped, lunging forward and seizing the man's shoulders. "Koji-san, gather as many ninja as you can...!"

"Why, Hirotaka-san?" asked a kunoichi who had helped him to his feet. Long looped braids... Ami-san, a student instructor.

"The children.... we must save the children!"

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"Kuso!"

Keiko gasped and turned at the expletive. Akemi-san, the senior ninja, stood at her shoulder. She then turned and called in a loud voice, "Ninja, to me!" She then turned to the path. "Hurry! The enemy is on the path!"

Older students that had already arrived on the plateau began to group near the entrance, helping the near frantic children as they staggered up. The word was passed down the path and the few older students snatched up the small ones, sprinting up the path.

Shiro appeared at Keiko shoulder and looked down to the advancing enemy and gave a low whistle.

Akemi turned to the dozen or so senior students that had gathered by her.

"Weapons? Equipment?" She asked.

Several of the students carried singled edged knives, throwing stars and darts of all sorts. Shiro and Keiko made small glances at each other and smiled. They had their knives, but they also carried smoke bombs, sneezing powder, itching powder, burn salves, a small bit of gunpowder, climbing claws, stealth wire, and binoculars. Shiro even had two home made explosive bombs and Keiko had some flesh eating larvae.

Akemi stared at the two, who simply shrugged. That was their regular pranking repertoire; they had grown so accustomed to carrying them that they thus armed themselves each day.

"Megumi-san? I need your eyes to tell me what are those men armed with and what that aircraft is armed with." A bob-haired girl, a kohai of Keiko's, nodded and clambered onto an outcropping rock by the plateau entrance.

"There doesn't seem to be any weapons on the craft... the men, automatic rifles and grenades."

Akemi closed her eyes momentarily.

"Alright. The path is cut into the mountain cliff and has 4 switchbacks. We cannot protect the first two; they will be overrun soon. They will not be able to climb out of the path. However, the path does not have much cover. We must trap the fourth switchback and trap the entrance. To achieve this, we must hold the third bend for the trappers to do their work." The ninja looked deep into each student's eyes. "They reach the plateau and there will be no hope for the children."

"You don't think...," gasped a girl.

"Yes. I believe this attack is to destroy Yamanouchi," the ninja nodded. "These... enemies... do not react like normal people. You must be prepared to annihilate them." Some of the students paled, others swallowed, but they all nodded.

Keiko swallowed against the sick trembling she felt, tightening her grip on her tanto(6), a short, single edged blade. She glanced at Shiro who stared sadly back at her.

"Keiko-san, Shiro-san, stay a moment. The rest, go to the third switchback!" Akemi said. The students faded from sight as they ran back onto the path. Akemi stared after them for a moment before speaking. "We will go down to the third switchback and try to buy you time. You must trap the fourth and the entrance. These enemies do not react to pain and may keep moving even after they should be long dead." She paused, looking them in the eye, her lips pale. "We... are not likely to return. Should the enemy reach the plateau..."

"We will teach these demons fear," Shiro spoke firmly. Keiko stared at her friend for a moment before turning to Akemi.

"We will fight." Akemi nodded before leaping away.

"C'mon Chouko, we need to get to the fourth switchback," Shiro said before leaving her side. Keiko nodded to herself and followed.

She ran past the defile and took the sharp right turn from there. She ran another fifty yards before reaching the last switchback. Already, Shiro was unloading some wire and a smoke bomb.

"Keiko, your sleep powder," he asked as he lashed the bomb and wire together. Keiko pulled out the vial and he took it, strapping it to the bomb. They set about, stringing wire across the defile, about a metre and a half from the ground, or a few inches off the ground. They rigged a second smoke bomb back up the path. Keiko wired her vial of flesh eating larvae on a branch overhead. They sprinted back to the defile and began rigging the explosives on the large rock. With a large enough explosion, the rock would crumble and block the path and force the enemy to climb up and attempt to pass one by one into the plateau.

They could hear gunshots, sharp and menacing, the rattle of automatic fire.

Keiko stifled whimper. She had never been so scared in her life. She was not ready to die. But when she turned and looked at the huddled children at the far end of the plateau, she swallowed and took a deep breath trying to calm herself.

The rattling sounded closer. She could hear screaming. She closed her eyes tightly and two unbidden tears slid down her face. In the path below, her brothers and sisters were dying.

"Chouko," Shiro said gently. "Let's get ready." She nodded, dashing her tears away with a flick of her hand.

Today, Keiko would prove herself a ninja.

The rattle of gunfire ceased. The sudden quiet was ominous. Shiro headed to the left of the defile, Keiko the right. She swallowed, wiping her sweating hands on her thighs. Below her friends were dying.

Akemi, a bright smiling ninja instructor who always had time to joke with her kohai; Megumi, the quiet girl who was studying to be a scout, whose eyes could pick out a green apple amongst a forest; Akina, quick-witted and calm, whose parents had forsworn her when she had decided to attend Yamanouchi; Mai, with a voice like an angel; Yoko, who had helped her study the History of the Founder; Taro, whose boyish humour made him so popular; Hiroshi and his dream filled head; Kazuo and his guitar that could make a grown man weep. Bright lights that had been snuffed out in a rain of cowardly bullets, their life spilt upon the stones of the land they loved.

Keiko shut her eyes tightly in the silence.

_I will avenge you, my brothers, my sisters._

In the path below, smoke billowed out as the first smoke bomb trap was set off. There were several high pitched twangs as the charging enemy ran afoul their hidden, deadly wires strung across the path that the smoke screen would hide. When the second smoke bomb erupted with a small cracking sound, Keiko wondered why there were no sounds of human suffering.

When the branch holding the flesh eating larvae whipped down and discharged it's load, Keiko was convinced something was wrong. She trembled, forcing herself to stay still, to await the explosion that would seal the defile.

The blast was tremendous. Keiko could see limbs and rock shards the size of melons flying into the air. The boulder toppled slowly, tipping into the defile entrance. The rock shattered, shaking the earth as it fell.

Even as rocks continued to rain down, Keiko burst up the sudden scarp, drawing her tanto and her vials of sneezing and itching powder. She lobbed them over the rise and heard them shatter on the other side. As she neared the top, a shadow appeared. Keiko gasped.

It was a headless and armless, blood streaked body. Burned in several places, its purple and grey uniform torn and tattered. A strange black collar covered its neck. It staggered over the rise, wandering aimlessly. Keiko stared up at the dismembered body, frozen in shock and horror. A shadow leaped past her.

With a curse, Shiro planted a foot in the body and kicked it back over the rise.

"Chouko, snap out of it," he shouted into her face. The girl shook herself and nodded, handing him her tanto. She looked around quickly and found a large rock, about four pounds in weight and hefted it.

Men in grey and purple suits were fumbling over the rise now on hands and feet. The defile was narrow, perhaps a meter in width. The enemy was slow moving, as if in a hypnotic state. Shiro, staying under the rise, slashing at their clumsy fingers, their faces, anything vital that came within reach. He whirled like a devil, his blades finding critical points, groin, arteries in the thighs, scoring across faces, lopping off fingers. One body fell and slid past the ninja; Keiko crushed its skull and hands with her rock. She unhooked the bandoleer of grenades and began lobbing them back over with their pins pulled, then tossed the rifle and the ammunition behind her. To her horror, the body continued to thrash. She hefted it and Shiro hook-tossed it back over the rise, knocking down several of the enemy.

Through the bloody slaughter, the purple and grey uniformed men were silent. They uttered no screams, no curses, no death rattles. Even when dismembered, they continued to climb and crawl their way up the scarp, hampering their own advance.

The girl knew this could not last. Shiro was panting for breath, sweating profusely; Keiko knew that she could not do even half as well as he.

A grenade fell nearby.

Shiro immediately kicked the small round explosive away, but the detonation was too close. The world spun as Keiko was thrown down the scarp, bouncing painfully amongst the loose rocks, a sharp edge splitting her cheek. She landed in a dazed heap. Shiro landed just past her.

She could not move, her head didn't work right. She was turned away from the defile, looking to the back of the plateau. Her vision swam and sound was fading in and out, like bubbles in a water tank. She could see a distorted view of the terrified, moaning, huddled children as they pressed themselves against the sheer cliff wall, fifty metres away. Black booted feet stepped over her, crushing the rocks before her face as the enemy formed a line and advanced, weapons ready and forward. Tears blurred her vision as she tried to will herself to move.

Suddenly, soft blue light bathed the plateau. Just above the children a large lotus flower unfurled itself, revealing a wizened old man.

_Dai... Sen...sei?_

"You will not take the children," the old man's deep voice reverberated across the plateau. The goons staggered attempting to raise their weapons, but for some reason, unable to do so. The translucent flower suddenly brightened, blotting out even the noonday sun for a moment.

A second, green globe appeared beneath the brilliant lotus. A figure within whirled, arms whipping quickly. Carolyn Possible-sama, her movements lissome and fluid, spun in a hypnotic, wrist flicking dance. Small green streaks struck each of the purple and grey clad figures in the neck, piercing the black collars, shattering them. As the black collars cracked and fell to the ground the Lotus flared a second time, casting harsh shadows behind the standing men.

Out of each goon's neck, a small, wet round object was squeezed out, a short root-like tail protruding from the body. One fell before the prone girl. Unable to move, she stared at the thing before her. Keiko's mind recoiled in horror.

It was... an eye. A terrifying, dark aura dissipated from it like smoke. It flopped weakly, the trailing tail she now recognized as the remnants of the optic nerve, pulsated and twisted like a leech. As the blue light played across it, the eye shrivelled into a hard, dark husk.

The roaring numbness suddenly built to a silent roar and she fell unconscious.

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(1) Shinobi - ninja

(2) Kunoichi - Female Ninja

(3) Yabe - Uh-oh, not good.

(4) Onee-sama - Big sister

(5) Kusou - S H to the IT

(6) Tanto - a short, slightly curved, single-edged knife.


	14. Chapter 14: Afterbirth

Disclaimers:  
Kim Possible © Disney

I have no money so don't sue me.

I DO own Tien, Dei, and the Prisma Agents

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_Interlude_

_Y'know some fads are just plain stupid. Small cars. TV hair. Capris. Mullets. Leg warmers. Mid-riff shirts... FOR BOYS._

_I knew I could always use a good book or something, since I was going on vacation, so I picked up the latest hot thing. The fucking thing took me thirteen hours to complete. Point A to point B, with no stops between except for bathroom and food breaks. And what do I get? Something unexpected. At least it's in the range of the right fucking colour. A Teal Cat. Ha, that was a laugh. Playful and extremely intelligent, that's me._

_But then the resort I went to on recommendation from a friend gets frozen over by some dork. Later, I hear that Pumpkin stopped him. Well, wasn't that just icing on the cake. Hmmm... Princess on the beach..._

_~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ _

_It got kind of silly when the animology craze hit Middleton. I couldn't get anyone to concentrate on anything! The Yearbook Committee, the Dance Committee, the Prom, even the cheerleaders! I had a nice chuckle when Ron was the pink sloth. In the end,... I caved. I got caught up with the questionnaire. And to be honest... I kinda fudged the test. I kept second guessing, analyzing and re-analyzing the questions, as if I was trying to guide the answer to something I wanted. And it worked! I got a Blue Fox, which was pretty cool: perfectionist, born leader... all the good stuff._

_But after I found out that my soulmate turned out to be Senor Senior Junior, ugh, I took the test again, honestly, and ended up with something rather silly. I don't even look like one! And they eat garbage, and,,, gah. Animology was just a fun game for people to play. What did I turn out to be?_

_Beige Raccoon of all things._

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**Blood and Bondage  
Chapter Fourteen: Afterbirth**  
by sweetPixiesmile

The rising sun cast dark, sharp-edged shadows under its glaring brightness. Red coloured dirt stretched as far as the eye could see; a few rock formations in the distance. Only a single dirt road led to this spot in the heart of the badlands. Columns of black acrid smoke marred the clear morning sky. Grey and purpled suited bodies were strewn all along the approach. Here and there, large craters marked the demise of large mechanical robots that had carried the assault or automated turrets that had defended the facility. Global Justice technicians in their blue coveralls were picking up and marking as much evidence as possible with their GPS logger-camera memory cards could hold. Several trucks had pulled up to an inconspicuous rise in the mud; the cleverly concealed series of cargo doors, twisted and blackened, lay on the red soil. Behind her Global Justice medics, adjusting their medic caps against the glaring morning sun, were assisting the wounded into a multi-vehicle medical convoy. She noted a familiar figure approaching but said nothing as Will Du fell in beside her.

Although having smelled it many times before, Betty could never get used to the afterbirth stench of a battlefield.

Her right hand held her dark blue helmet by the strap, the rounded full face-plated protector banging against the sleek body hugging body armour that she wore. On her back was a large long assault weapon. Her left hand rested casually on the holstered pistol at her hip. Her brown hair was plastered to her head from dried sweat. There was a large dent on her armoured right shoulder. Behind, three other Global Justice Aides followed, two with their rifles held loosely, the safeties off.

Even with the multi-layered, honey-combed armour, her shoulder felt like it had been rammed by a half-ton truck.

"I have the initial report, Doctor Director," Will said. Betty continued to walk, the crunching sound of her combat boots the only reply. Will glanced at her, then continued, looking down at his handheld device. "Of the enemy, we have destroyed thirty robots, and counted about three hundred well armed bodies in Worldwide Evil Empire uniforms. We have thirty fatalities and sixty-eight wounded of the inmate population. Of Global Justice personnel, twenty-three fatalities and thirty-one wounded were of the Omega Security Detail, ten fatalities and fourteen wounded from the five strike teams combined."

God, she was tired. The numbers weighed heavily on her mind. Because they weren't just numbers. One foot in front of the other. _C'mon brain, work, think, analyze._

"The bomb squads have defused several devices both within and without the facilit- oooufff!"

Will walked into Betty's suddenly outstretched arm, stopping instantly. He stumbled back a few steps.

Just a few inches from here he had stopped, was a large, oddly shaped crater. Cut into the ground, was a perfectly round hemisphere, about a mile deep. The acrid stench of burnt metal caused him to cover his mouth and nose, as if he could keep out the burning tang. Directly opposite from them, one hundred and fifty yards below the lip of the crater, he could see rectangular layers, the multiple floors of the Omega Facility itself. A Global Justice technician, a woman with dark shoulder length hair, stood with a male colleague to the side.

Will had been with the sweeper team that had taken defused a number of mines, planted by the attackers, to allow for the support column to arrive. Betty, always the fierce leader, had guided the strike teams in their newly acquired and built hover-troop carriers, based off of Drakken's hoverpod technology. The enemy had not anticipated that the reinforcements would fly in with several air-support units that carried heavy armour-killing ordinance.

"Doctor Tse," Betty spoke, the edges of her combat boots protruding slightly over the edge of the crater, looking down into the recesses of Global Justice's premiere holding and rehabilitation centre. The woman walked over after giving some final instructions.

"Doctor Director. The sci-stat-rep is as follows. Fusion reactor is powered down and we are running off geothermal for now, so emergency only. The reactor core was not damaged, nor was any of the barrels in storage, so no need for hazmat."

"The bomb squad found and defused a device that had been hastily attached to the reactor," Will added.

It had been one of Betty's greatest fears, that during the Global Justice response to the assault, the enemy would detonate the core. Bodies of the security detail had marked the fierce battle to defend both the inmate population and the core. With the forces split this way, they held the enemy by the barest of margins, until the arrival of the strike teams, but eventually gave out when the WEE goons had made a suicide charge.

Her lips compressed in a tired, grim line.

"Continue."

"Uh, yes," Doctor Tse coughed into a fist.

Betty began to walk along the edge of the hole. The five others followed in her steady tread. The leader of Global Justice thought the crater looked as if some hungry giant had used a scoop and spooned out a chunk of the ground.

"This crater was created by some sort of energy weapon. We're still trying to determine what our scans are picking up, but I can at least tell you how it works. The device incinerated itself in the process, but it released an energy field that simply sheared through the area affected at a molecular level. We're detecting some muonic particles and residual neutrino activity, which suggests some sort of dimensional portal. So the affected area's contents have been simply.... removed elsewhere. We won't know much more until the scan-van gets here with the heavy equipment."

Betty nodded almost absentmindedly. The technician, sensing her odd mood, simply nodded in reply and returned to her scanning equipment.

The brown haired woman looked down into the large gaping hole.

"Have all the inmates been accounted for?" Her voice was calm, restrained. Betty kept a tight leash on things, tightened the lid even more.

"We've accounted for all the inmates except one." Betty's face froze, her heart hammering with dread.

"Who?"

"Dora Nanon Ami, also known as-"

"DNAmy," Betty growled, her eyes narrowing. She didn't understand her own reaction. There was a warning there, something in her subconscious. But she couldn't shake the feeling.

The feeling of the devil dancing on her grave.

* ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ *

Kim stood by herself, a dark purple smear against the pristine white of the hospital ward paint. She wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes closed in anguish. She could feel the periodic glances of concern and sympathy from the nurses at the station , but at this moment, she felt numb. Worry curdled inside her like spoiled milk, her brow furrowed by too much knowledge, too much to lose.

Beside her a door opened. A man with dark brown hair and skin came out of the room, followed closely by another, more familiar figure.

"Mom!" Kim cried as she hugged the neurosurgeon, as she had so many times that night. Anne's collared shirt was unbuttoned to the third to accommodate the large beige collar around her neck. Her left hand was also sporting a neoprene wrist brace.

"Kimmie," Anne offered a wan smile.

"Thank you Doctor Majin," Kim's muffled voice spoke from where her face was buried. "Thanks for checking on my mom."

"No problem Kim. Your mother's tough as nails."

"And a good patient too, Tom?" Anne teased.

"Better than most. Doctors anyways," he smiled. "Don't worry about your workload, I'll talk to Tracy about rescheduling your patients."

"Thanks Tom. And have them send the emergencies to Samuel over in Upperton. He'll be insufferable, but he's very good." The brown haired doctor nodded and walked over to the Nurse's Station to speak to the ones on shift. Kim drew back and looked at her mom.

"How's Dad?"

"He's sleeping now," Anne's smile was brittle, brave. "He's got a mild contra-concussion from the air bag. They'll keep him for surveillance for tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Then he'll be as good as new. How about some tea?" Kim nodded, wrapping her arms around her mother's. Anne's expression darkened for a moment. "How's Monique?"

"Her mom picked her up an hour back. She was pretty shaken up. I think Doctor Rosen's going to get a call from her in the next couple of days."

"Just remind her that she can talk to him; the man may be an ass, but he's the top of his field when it comes to trauma counselling."

_He should be with all the villains hanging around Middleton_, Kim thought wryly.

"Are you going to stay here tonight?"

"I think so, Kim. There's a spare bed in your father's room, and I have my overnight bag." Anne gave her daughter a sly look. "And... Shego?" Kim released her mom and looked away.

"She's up in your office. She was getting all worked up after we... saw... what happened to Drak-, I mean, Drew."

"By the way Kimmie, now's not the time, but you and I are going to have a long talk about what you're wearing, young lady." Anne raised an eyebrow at Kim's purple and black corseted dress. Kim laughed nervously.

"Mom!"

"Mom! Kim!" They turned to see Jim and Tim rushing over from the elevator. The Possibles all hugged.

"I stopped at the emergency room downstairs..."

"... and they told me you were up here!"

"Are you alright?..."

"...where's Dad?"

Kim and Anne smiled at each other. Maybe the tweebs weren't unsalvageable.

"And just one question. Where were you, mat head?" Tim poked his brother in the shoulder with an accusing finger." The woman's faces fell with that one sentence. Perhaps not.

"Your father," Anne started, stepping in deftly between the two, "is going to be ok. Want a visit?"

"Is he awake?"

"He's okay?"

"Yes boys," Anne said ruffling Jim's unruly hair. "He's sleeping but it'll be good for you to look in on him. Just one word though." Her blue eyes glinted dangerously. "No fighting infront of the invalids!"

"Yes Mom," they replied, abashed. Kim gave her mom a smile of sympathy before motioning to Anne that she was going to go upstairs to the office. Anne nodded, then steered the feuding teens toward James's room.

Kim sighed as she waited for the elevator. Hobble, who'd grimaced as Kim teased him with "Sergeant Harry" through out the interview, and the distrustful deputy, Eve was her name, had taken their statements earlier. She entered the elevator, hugging herself as she headed up to the doctor's offices. She walked down the darkened, deserted, humming hallway to Anne's office. The plaque beside the door read "Dr. Anne Possible, M.D., Chief of Neurology."

"Damnit Kim," a voice came as she opened the door and stepped into the office. "Where've you been?"

Shego stood there in her torn and ripped dress, huffing like a bull ready to charge. Kim quickly moved to her mother's cabinet and pulled out a tin of tea and a kettle.

"What do you mean?"

"We've gotta get outta here and start looking for Drew! They took him and.... and he's out there! I was responsible for his safety and they just... they just..." Shego's face was thunderous. She whirled away from the red-head and began pacing the length of the office. Kim put the tin and kettle down on the counter and turned to watch the pacing woman. "When I find who did this... they'll pay!" Her hands began to glow as her rage coiled inside her. Kim hurried to the woman's side.

"Shego!" Kim pitched her voice into a soothing tone. Shego continued to pace. "We don't know where they are, or who they are." Shego passed her. "I've already called Wade and he's doing everything he can. We won't be able to do anything." Shego walked by again, her haunted look deepening. "At least not until we know more. I've called in as many favours as I can to get the ball rolling. NSA, FBI, CIA, CSIS, Interpol, MI6, J-2, SVR, GRU, FSB, NIS and of course, Global Justice. None of them want Drak-, Drew in the wrong hands. Their all looking for him. If they even pop up on the grid at all, they'll find him." As Shego passed her once again, Kim slipped in quickly and embraced the woman from behind. Shego stopped, her body trembling from rage and futility, her hands flexing and twitching.

"We'll find him, Shego. We'll find him."

"It's just... I've never let anyone down like this before, not where they'd... they'd..." The woman stopped as the arms pulled her tighter. She ducked her head, her face shadowed with doubt and anger. Kim smirked, then lifted the woman with a grunt. Shego strangled an "eep!" in her throat as Kim carried her to the couch and sat her down.

"Kim, what?" Kim drew the thief down as she sat, placing the woman's head in her lacy lap and pulled her against her stomach..

"C'mon Shego, relax!" Shego began to rise, but Kim kept a firm hold on the woman and began to stroke her hair. Her long black-green hair, Her sexy long, green and black hair...

"Kim, We've got to-"

"Rest, Shego. If you want to be ready for when our net finds him, we need to get some shut eye. We've both had a long day, now hush!" Kim continued to run her fingers through the woman's hair. The comet-powered woman continued to grumble, but Kim's musky scent, rhythmic breathing and soothing touch was making her drowsy. And the drowsiness loosened her tongue.

"I've never failed him like that, ya know? He was like a dumbass brother I could boss around but still get along with. He accepted me for who I was, not like... Sure I'd sometimes let him get caught just because he needed a lesson, but nothing ever like..." Shego's voice faded as sleep overtook her. Kim looked down at the sleeping ex-thief, now turned security consultant. Even in sleep, the creases of stress continued to marr the woman's expression. The woman's breathing slowed, evening out into long soft whispers that made Kim's lips quirk. Then her eyes darkened as they thought on the day. It had started all so nicely; she had made a reservation at a hotel near the Middleton Campus, she had made plans. Plans that were now all messed up. But sitting here, in the dimly lit office, Kim felt a wave of contentment slide through her.

Slowly and silently, Kim pulled her Kimmunicator out of her sash. She stared at it for long moments, moments that stretched into minutes. A few more minutes, Kim placed the device on the arm of the couch and settled back into the couch. She continued to stroke the ex-villainess's hair, beginning to nod herself.

"Kimmie?"

The girl looked up to see Anne holding the kettle. Anne hefted it and Kim nodded to the unspoken question. Anne motioned herself to the door and Kim nodded again. By the time she returned from filling the kettle with distilled water from the Doctor's Lounge down the hall, Kim lay with her head back, gently breathing in a deep sleep. Anne sighed at the sight as she put down the kettle and drew a woollen blanket from a chest by the couch. She tucked in the two women, then stood back and smiled sadly to herself.

Perhaps it was time to say goodbye to her dreams of Kim's grandchildren.

She quickly brewed herself a mug of tea and left the two exhausted women to sleep.

* ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ *

The thin blond skirts the hallways, walking deliriously down the centre, passing by men in various coloured suits. She turns at another hallway, one that runs for thirty metres, before ending at a double door. She nearly skips down the hall, only to be stopped by one of three black suited goons.

"Sorry, Miss Flanner, we have to buzz you in. His health, you understand."

"Of course." One of the other guards depresses the button on a round metallic intercom.

"Sir, Miss Flanner is here to see you."

"Splendid. Please allow her in."

"Yes Sir." At that, the men step aside, one of them pressing another button at which the two doors slid open. Justine practically flounces into the room.

"My Love?" Justine pauses, her eyes adjusting to the dimness. She can barely make out a shadow sitting by the window. A large black man stands behind the desk while a tall pretty girl lounges on the couch. Justine only feels better, knowing that her love had chosen her and not someone as beautiful as the slim Asian.

"Here, my dear," the rough choked voice floats to her and she comes closer, stopping dutifully six feet from the man. "How are you enjoying your stay here?"

"Oh, very much so! The laboratory here is stupendous and well stocked for everything." She digs a toe into the ground, her hands clasped behind her. "I was wondering if we m-might... that is...if you might... I mean we could..." A light blush tints Justine's sallow cheeks as she flounders.

"Have some time together? Certainly. This phase of the project is nearly done. When it is over, perhaps we can spend some time on my island?" The flush turns from embarrassment to anticipation.

"Uh, yes, yes, that would be excellent! Uh,... and did my portable energy fields operate as expected in the field? Were you able to capture the specimens you were looking for?"

"They worked splendidly, my dear," came a toothy grin. "I would take you to see them, but they are creatures used to the dark, such as myself... like me, they would wither and die even in the dimmest of lights."

"Oh! I understand. I would do anything to help your condition," gushes the blond.

"You have no idea how what you said makes me feel," the shadow replies. "How has your research been coming?"

"The artifact is simply amazing! There is no frame of reference, so I am doing pure scientific work, formulating theories on how the power can be harnessed. It's so exciting!"

I am glad that you feel that way, my dear. I would love to hear more, but I have a meeting to attend in the next few moments."

"Yes... yes! Of course. Shall we have supper together later?"

"I believe I am available, my dear. Let us eat and talk then." The blonde's eyes never waver from the shadow, an intense yet tender light in her eyes.

"Yes. Well, I'll head back to the lab then."

"Until supper, then." The blond pauses on her way out, then slips out with three words.

"I love you."

The shadow sits still for a moment, then rises and moves ponderously to the desk.

"Sir, Tri Alpha to see you," buzzes the intercom.

"Send him in."

A thin trembling man with thick spectacles shuffles into the room. His grey and purple jumpsuit hangs loosely on his wiry frame. He wipes compulsively at the sweat on his brow.

"S-s-sir," he stutters.

"How is the energy drain report."

"The s-simian seems to be a w-w-well of ener-nergy, sir. We are t-t-tapping it as quickly as w-we can. M-miss F-f-flanner's energy s-s-siphon works splendidly in all sizes."

"And the transfer project?"

"The subject seems unable to replicate the neuro patterns and circuits. He c-c-c-claims it is due to our manufacturing eq-q-q-quipment. It may be he is simply stalling."

"Tell him that we wish to three compliance chips for testing in five days. We will acquire some experts to assist him."

"Yes s-s-s-sir."

"You may go." The man tries not to stare as the hand hovering over a button withdraws. Unable to stop himself, he breaths a sigh of relief, before scurrying out. The intercom squawks on the heels of the retreating man's departure.

"Sir, Agent Red is back with Miss Ami."

"Very well, bring her in."

A portly woman in a stretched orange coveralls is preceded by a tall muscular man in a red jumpsuit. She squints about the dark room.

"Welcome to our lair, Ami."

Once again in the darkened room, a large woman in an orange jumpsuit stands defiantly before the shadowed one eyed figure, once again sitting behind his desk. Dei stands three paces behind, attentive and at his shoulder. Tien continues to lounge her long lanky body on the couch. Her eyes are predatory, gazing speculatively at the squirming woman as she wrings her hands.

"Gemini, thank you for rescuing me, I must know if..." she bites her lower lip with a slight whine.

"As promised, my dear," the shadowed figure gestures and a panel in the floor hisses open. A stone statue of a long faced man in loose pants and a short robe rises steadily on a hydraulic platform. The portly bob haired woman rushes to the statue, making odd solicitous noises, occasionally interjecting frustrated and angry mutterings. "I have retrieved your precious Montgomery."

"Yes, yes, thank you for getting pudding-tums back to momsie!" Suddenly anger flushed her features. "But who did this! How could this be my little monkey love?"

"I am assisting you in exacting your revenge at this moment. I can tell you with certainty that his current state was caused by none other than your erstwhile nemesis, Kim Possible and her allies."

"Kim Possible?" A crazed light twists the woman's features. "She'll pay for this! It's bad enough that she won't let me make my fuzzy, cuddly cuddle-buddies, now she takes away my luvey-wuvey?"

"I am working on restoring your man to you, my dear. Rest assured, I will succeed. However, in the meantime, we can take the first steps for your revenge."

"Revenge? Oh, that is such a hard, harsh way of putting it. I prefer to say, karma." The woman's emotion swings into a simpering, overly sweet tone.

"Yes, and it is karma that you should destroy the allies of Miss Possible, to cause her infinite suffering, knowing that she was the cause of their demise."

"Yes, yes! What can I do?" The massive bulk of the woman trembles with restrained eagerness.

"I have a few thoughts on that, my dear..."

* ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ *

"By order of Dai Sensei, all survivors are to return home until further notice. All sensei are requested to do the same." Hirotaka's voice was weary with grief, the cuts and burns along his back sewn closed and bandaged. The burnt out husk of the communications building, the craters that disturbed the grounds, the smoke that still wafted high into the clear mountain sky were testaments to the bravery and sacrifice of the shinobi who had laid their lives down for the honour and safety of Yamanouchi. "Dai Sensei and his guest, Carolyn Possible-sama, have been gravely weakened by the battle. Many have been killed and some are still missing..."

Hirotaka nearly chokes on those words, suddenly overcome with emotion, but quickly recovers. The younger members, knowing of whom he spoke, wiped at the tears in their eyes.

"The school will be best served by our going to ground for now. That is the will of Dai Sensei..." That was all Dai Sensei had ordered. Had he seen something in the future that Hiro could not? But the shinobi could not help adding more. "But rest assured. We will not be silent, We will not sleep. Our network is still in place and our ties are strong. We will not rest until we claim the debt of the lives of our brothers and sisters."

Like the other shinobi, Hirotaka was disgusted, a sick loathing in the pit of their stomachs when they heard of the attack on the children, who had no tactical advantage nor were much of a threat. The ripped, torn mangled corpses of the older students had been sent home for proper burial with full honours. The flower of an entire year had been torn to pieces. Only two survived; one remained standing, her face scared in blazing jagged edges that gave her face a fierce and determined look, while the other had been whisked away to hospital, his eyes pierced by shrapnel, sleeping deeply in the grips of a coma. Keiko, stood expressionless, her bright eyes dull, her hair hanging in grimey, greasy dirt stained locks, ointment gleaming on her fire scarred face. She had been barely conscious when the scouts arrived, searching for the children.

Dai Sensei and Possible-sama had to be carried down from the plateau, their powers almost completely drained. They breathing was shallow, their brows hot with fever, their aged limbs trembling. They were ensconced in Dai Sensei's rooms together, braziers of incense and healing herbs filling the room with sweet cloying smoke.

"Go and wait. Now is the time to harbour our strength. We will need it sorely in the days to come. Dismissed."

A few of the sensei stop to speak with him to ask after the two elders, about the Magical Monkey Master. Hirotaka was hard pressed to keep his fury from his face, but he felt that he was successful. Ron was found, unconscious, in the Grey Valley, surrounded by bodies and wreckage. The signs of a titanic struggle that had occurred there were obvious. They had carefully brought Ron down from the sacred grounds and he had not yet awoken. As the last sensei turned away to assist the students in their hurried packing, Hirotaka turned and walked back into the masters building. He moved slowly, deliberately, economically to his room and sat down on the bare tatami mats. After a few brief moments, he sighed heavily. Someone scratched at his fusuma. He turned, realizing that he had forgotten to close the paper sliding door to his room.

Standing at the threshold with a fragile expression, Keiko took a moment to ask her question.

"Is there any word..." her voice cracked and she fell silent, her lips writhing, her eyes blinking. He shook his head wearily.

"No, Yori-chan is still missing."

Keiko covered her mouth, turning away. High pitched whimpers escape her tightly pressed hand. She slid to the floor, her head bowed, both hands now attempting to stem the tide that had broken her defences. Hirotaka hesitated for a moment, then knelt behind her and placed a hand on her shaking shoulders as she rocked back and forth, his face stark with the sorrow that he does not express.

* ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ *

Yori was bored.

That was something she didn't expect from captivity. She thought that there might be some abuse, some henchmen to taunt, something to look at or consider while planning her escape. Granted, she had never been in captivity on her own before, but the listlessness was a surprise.

No light but for the force field.

No sound, but the soft whisper of her own breathing and the incessant hum of the orange energy around her.

She could not tell how long she had been kept in the pitch black room, but the initial pangs of hunger had come and gone several times already.

The woman in the orange jumpsuit had thrown a cover over the captive kunoichi in the hoverpod, leaving her completely oblivious to their destination or their direction of travel. They had then carried her down into this room and taken off the cover, leaving her in the darkness.

She was also extremely... discomforted. She was glad that she had not been able to eat much prior to the contest; gods that felt so long ago! But her bladder was feeling distended and full.

Suddenly, light flooded the room as the door to her cell opened, the hallway spilling brightly onto the floor. Two large henchmen in unfamiliar grey and purple entered. One carried a long and thick wooden pole. They spoke to each other, but the sound was blocked by the energy field. She was unsure shy she was still alive; there was little tactical advantage to keeping her. One of the men gestured rudely at the ninja as the other laughed.

They threaded the pole into a reinforced ring in the imprisoning emitter and heaved the pole onto their shoulders, tumbling the Japanese girl unceremoniously inside the tiny spherical field. Out of the cell and down several dimly lit corridors, they whisked the ninja, who desperately attempted to memorize their path and take note of any important features. After the thirty-nineth turn, they enter a large domed room.

The edge of the room was lined with large bundles of three inch thick cabling connected to several rack mount servers. Two large metal cylinders dominated the middle of the room, a large tube connected to the top of each domed top to a large nondescript machine embedded into the ceiling. Each cylinder had a reinforced door with a shuttered panel.

One of the goons held her while the other opened a cylinder before returning to the ninja and bringing her to the opened chamber. Turning the emitter, the two men positioned Yori inside the opened door. One turned off the emitter, the other kicked the cylinder door shut before she can react, leaving her in an hollow, echoing darkness. Too late, Yori sprang to her feet and tried the door. It is useless. She collapsed to the floor, fighting despair. She can hear the murmur of voices just outside and pressed her ear to the cold metal, but cannot distinguish any words.

_Please do not let me disgrace my ancestors..._

The shuttered panel was suddenly thrown back. The kunoichi looked up and stared at the shadowed face, black beady eyes shining with manic glee under short black bangs and over a freckled nose.

"Good, the sub-host is here and looks relatively unharmed, if a bit pale."

"I know you...," Yori squinted in an effort to remember where she had seen this woman before. "Ah.... you are DNAmy, Monkey Fist's paramour!"

"Yes, dear, and you are the ninja who helped Kim Possible turn my schnookums into a statue. Wonderful! Arnold, put the dominant host into the second chamber!" With that, the shutter slammed shut.

"No, wait!" Yori jumped to the door, banging in futility with soft tinny thuds with her fists. "Why are you doing this! Why?"

Her only reply was a resounding clang of the second chamber door closing. She leaned her forehead against the cold, closed door, in the dark, trying to hold herself together.

_No, no, nononononono..._ Yori's heart beat frantically, her palms sweaty, her eyes tearing, her mouth dry with terror. _Help me.... someone... I can't get out.... I can't get free. Dai Sensei, give me strength!_

She noticed a glow in the floor and ceiling of her prison.

_Not a cell. A "chamber"... DNAmy.... hosts... a genetic recombinator!_

Yori desperately searched the walls of the tiny space for any imperfection, a chink, a misaligned rivet seam, anything to get out.

A hum began to build, louder and louder, as the light grew brighter and brighter. Pressing against the sides of the small space with nervous energy, she shimmied up to the top, where a secure metal mesh covered a large crystal lens. Fingernails tore as she franticly tried to pry off the grill. She lost her footing and fell to the floor with a clang. A painful buzzing filled her head; she could hardly think, hardly breathe as the light became unbearably bright, the hum roaring in her ears.

_Ron... give me strength..._

As the name of the man she loved slips across her thoughts, and she realized the truth of her feelings, in that infinitesimal moment, the power of the hum and light suddenly spiked. Molecule by molecule, DNA strand by DNA strand, Yori felt herself dismembered, disassembled, deconstructed. She felt her terror rising, her mouth opening to draw breath. Even amidst the pain, she gritted her teeth, a last bastion against shame.

She did not scream as she was torn apart.


	15. Chapter 15: S O P

A/N: Once again Thanks to my beta Nikkou. And also a nod to Eoraptor for pointing out some emotional discontinuity. And because they kicked my butt for not listening to what I should have done, I also noticed I totally forgot to include the Interlude!!! BTW, for those of you who haven't caught on yet, Ms. Justine Flanner and Ms. Vivian Frances Porter are two completely different characters. Thought I'd clear that up!

For those of you who've read this already, the new parts are the Interlude and near the end, in the Caribbean Lair. Well, here's version two. Enjoy!

- KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP -

_Interlude_

_Gah! I'm still so fucking mad at that blue asshat!_

_You'd think we would have learned from the mind control chip incident. There are very specific things I will not do. Cloning is one. Cookies is another. And the last is mind control. And here that blue dork was, playing with my emotions. And I couldn't even tell! I would have been a happy little robot__ slave to that big blue dork, and I wouldn't ahve even blinked. All the running and the chasing, and the crying... UGH! The whole thing started when Kimmie and I threw down in Bortel's office. And I was pretty slick. The girlie had some pretty good moves, but thanks to her dork sidekick, we got the goods _**and**_ got away._

_It was like a weird war in my head. Everytime Drakken would open his mouth, I felt like I should snark him... but I just couldn't because my brain was telling me that he was too .... ugh.... c-c-c-.... c-c-cut- dammit! And I even played tongue hockey with him, something I wouldn't do if he was the last fucking person on earth and I was on a 2000 proof bender. God! Kill me... kill me now. _

_The worst part was remembering every simpering minute of it. But then, it was kinda funny that Kimmie got tagged by the moodulator too. And... I have to admit, that little black dress was... pretty... good.... cute....... aaaghhh! It was sorta funny, seeing her get the same runaround as me. _

_But I'm still burned that it took them that much longer to get the moodulator off me than off her!_

- KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP -

_Oh. My. God. I never thought I'd be more embarrassed than the time Drakken hit me with the Aurora Orchid pollen and tried to embarrass me out of existence, but this was just so the drama!_

_Smart, that I am._

_Sweet, sure._

_Sassy, you got it._

_But Crazy Emo like lived forty-eight hours in my body! And then I .... kissed.... Ron.... well, okay, it wasn't that bad, but still! It was like my brain was on some bad crack or something. It was exhausting and the worst part was... I didn't even care! I feel so ferociously messed up. It's like the ultimate humiliation, to be seen chasing after RON. Why couldn't it have been someone else... like... maybe... Sh-_

_Aw! Totally inappropriate images there. So need some brain soap!  
_

_It _**was**_ nice to see that Shego has a romantic side to her plasma-wielding, kung-fuing self._

- KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP -

**S.O.P.**  
_by sweetPixiesmile_

Kim awoke to screaming. Screaming that immediately cut itself off to a choked gasp.

She had been dreaming. It had been a nice warm dream that felt both safe and intense. Not intense in the normal sense of the word. Her intense happy dreams usually consisted of skydiving, cliff jumping or freebasing. One time she'd even dreamt of cruising the Golden Gate Bridge on her rocket skates. Another had involved putting on the super-fast shoes she wore to defeat those android BeeBees Drakken had created in some attempt to create a villainous robot girlfriend. By running the circumference of the earth at light speed, she had turned the clock backwards, like an old superhero movie her father had forced her to watch once during a father-daughter bonding date.

The dream she had been woken from had been fiery and exciting in a strange and disconcerting way. But the screaming had immediately chased the nice fuzzy feelings away, the details fleeing before the piercingly shrill sound.

Not quite the way she would have wanted to be woken from sleep.

Kim, still bleary eyed, bolted to her feet at the sound, settling into her favoured stance, her right fist balled by her side, her other hand extended in a hand blade. She blinked rapidly, desperate to clear her vision as she scanned her mother's office. The golden glare of the late afternoon sun streamed through venetian blinds, painting sharp orange bars of light across Anne's desk. She turned slowly to face the couch.

Shego was siting up, her legs still on the couch. She had a clawed hand over her mouth. Perspiration dotted the woman's forehead, her face screwed up in a sour, anguished scowl. Kim immediately sat beside the woman and hugged up against her back.

"Get off, Pumpkin!" Shego growled. Kim, never put off by a challenge, tightened her grip.

"What's wrong, Shego?"

"I said, GET THE FUCK OFF!" Shego's hands flared with green fire, the heat nearly blistering Kim's forearms. Kim jumped off the couch, back flipping until her back hit the wall.

"Oooff!" she gasped. She looked up to see the comet powered woman hadn't moved from her spot, but her plasma had dampened and was already dying away.

"Kim," the woman said, her head bowed, her hair shadowing her face. "I-, I'm... fuck... Sorry. When I'm.... upset... I can't stand anyone touching me."

"No, I'm sorry, Shego," the redhead said as she pushed herself off the wall. She returned, but this time, sat before the ex-villainess, careful not to touch her. "I come from a really, you know, touchy-feely family. We hug all the time."

"Yeah, I noticed." Shego's comeback was not as snappy or cutting as it normally was, but still Kim took it as a good sign. "I,... uh, didn't mean to wake you."

"I was just dreaming," Kim shrugged."A nice little dream too..." Kim muttered under her breath. Shego's ear twitched slightly.

"Oh, a good dream, was it?" she smirked. Kim thought about it. She had woken, feeling all warm and.... a little short of breath. She suddenly felt self conscious, acutely exposed. And realized that a particular area on her body was... oddly tingly, throbbing with an indescribable longing...

Kim blushed from the roots of her hair to her shapely toes. Shego's smirk widened to an evil grin. The hero felt as if the woman could, somehow, sense the confusion of longing and arousal inside.

"That good, huh."

"Better than yours, though," Kim retorted, trying to get her runaway blush under control. Shego's face froze for a moment. The redhead instantly regretted the effect her words had.

"Yeah," Shego sighed. "Definitely sounds better." The woman threw herself backwards against the couch with a frustrated groan, bouncing slightly on the stiff springs.

"Do... you wanna.."

"I don't need a pity fuck, alright?" Kim's blush deepened.

"Tha-that's n-not-" the cheerleader stammered. "I was going to ask if you wanted to talk about it!"

"No, Princess, I don't wanna sit around the campfire and sing kumbaya. What I want is to do something. I wanna find Drew. And kick the collective asses of whoever took him!" As she spoke her body grew taut and her voice rose.

"Well, we're not going to be able to do much until we get more from my sources," Kim shrugged.

"Why don't you call Nerdlinger on your Kimmie toy?" The woman gestured at the device that had fallen to the floor when Kim had jumped out of the couch the first time. Kim looked down at the watch-like Kimmunicator, picking it up with her slim fingers.

The device beeped when she pressed the call button. It beeped for several minutes.

"Gawd, Princess, your geek's sure let himself go. If he'd taken this long to answer on any of your missions, you'da been fricasseed by now."

"This is weird, even for him," Kim said, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Maybe he's busy or something."

"Maybe he's surfing internet porn," the woman smirked

"Maybe he's out!" Kim felt that she needed to defend Wade. He wouldn't.... would he...? No, he wasn't like that!

"Out? You mean, like, out of his little dork hole? "

"Well, yeah. After you dropped out of the villain circuit, we had a... heart-to-heart. He was getting way too big. His knees were getting bad, his heart was hurting and his appetite was getting the best of him. You've seen him during our Gulf of Mexico mission. He's totally buff, and you don't get that just from running on a treadmill."

"Yeah, yeah, fine, so Nerdlinger is now a buff Nerdlinger. He's still a nerd." Kim rolled her eyes in response. At that moment, the Kimmunicator gave an answering, deeper chime.

"Wade," came a sleepy answer.

"Wade, are you okay?" Kim was concerned. It had never taken Wade this long to answer one of her calls before.

"Uh, yeah... yeah! Kim, uh... just a late night." She could practically hear him rubbing his eyes and swinging his feet off the squeaky cot he kept in his command centre.

"Sorry to call you, but I was wondering if you could patch me through to Doctor Director?" The sound of shuffling became pronounced and the video feed to the Kimmunicator flickered to life. Kim blinked. Wade really did look tired. Dark circles surrounded his blood-shot, puffy eyes. He sat before his console, pulling on his virtual gloves all the while giving a loud, long yawn. "Wow, Wade. Not another gaming tournament, was it?" Kim teased. Wade grimaced.

"I wish. I'm working with a... um, client overseas. Sorry, confidentiality and all. Anyway, I don't know if you'll get Betty on the line though. Global Justice just suffered a major attack yesterday, and they're still cleaning up."

"What?!" Shego's incredulous cry exploded right next to Kim's ear, spooking her. She hadn't realized the comet-powered beauty had been over her shoulder the whole time.

"Oh, hey Shego. Yeah. Lots of dead. Lots of damage. Omega facility is running on geothermal, right now. Some prisoners dead. Almost the entire garrison, wiped out or out of commission."

Kim and Shego glanced at each other. Shock was mirrored in their gazes.

"Anyone we know?"

"Hmmm... nope, none of your regular cadre of villains. But there is one note. DNAmy's missing."

"Well, Doctor D is too, but you already knew that. Anyone else?"

"Not in the filed reports. Still want to talk to Betty?"

"Please and thank you. I think it's even more urgent now than ever. Did you tell her about Drak-, er, Doctor Lipsky?" Kim chirped.

"I might have mentioned it... 'Kay, gimme a coupla minutes, I'll hack into her internal line could be a bit trick-... and done."

"Thanks Wade, and you-"

"Rock, yeah I know." Wade paused for a moment, his dark smudged eyes catching her with one of his concerned looks. "Be careful, Kim. Something's going down, and it looks really serious."

"Gotcha. And thanks again Wade."

Shego and Kim waited for the head of Global Justice to pick up her phone while digesting what Wade had just told them. The super, top secret Omega facility attacked, inmates and guards killed alike? Kim shivered as her Kimmunicator continued to ring.

- KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP -

"Yes, I've seen your memo, Kim," Betty suppressed a sigh as she held the handset to her ear with one hand while brushing her short bobbed hair behind the other ear. The afternoon sun streamed into the office, a darkening ruddy orange. Sharp shadows cut darkened strips across the plain charcoal grey carpet. A small line creased the middle of her brow. She wiped at her eye with the heel of her free hand.

"You realize that at this time, our forces are... so you have heard...? It wasn't from the internet was it...? Well, good. Then you understand that we are moving as quickly as we can, with so many fatalities. No, I understand, we are still glad to help. Thank you for letting us know. Doctor Lipsky would be very dangerous if directed with a more sinister hand. However, I admit our desire to help is not wholly altruistic. I suspect they are related. Middleton was not the only location assaulted. I am assuming you've spoken to Mr. Load recently? Really? I must engage his services more often..." Betty hesitated, closing her eyes for a moment before setting her jaw and staring out the window.

"I am about to tell you something that has not been made public,... perhaps never. Please brace yourself. We suspect that Yamanouchi has been attacked,... I-... Please remain calm, Miss Possible. You do not need to shout..." Betty pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes as she fought for her own calm.

"Yes, our satellites picked up a number of heat blooms in the mountains in Japan; I have confirmation from a confidential source that Ron was not injured and under the care of the school... You will have to speak to Mr. Load about that; he was the one who reported the incident in Japan. There is no electronic contact in that area at this time. Yes. Thank you, and the same to you. Please let her know that if we hear anything, you will be the first to know. Alright. Goodbye."

As she put her handset back into the cradle, Betty's shoulders slumped in exhaustion.

On her desk, all her trays were empty. A shiny new tray labelled "On Hold" was stacked with files and folders fourteen inches high. Three shorter piles of paper dominated her workspace. One stack on her desk was a shorter stack of forms. They were the series of triplicates required to begin the process of repatriating each soldier who had died under her command. It was something she had insisted on when she had first taken accepted her position as head of Global Justice, and it was something her troops had always respected. The bodies of the deceased needed to be transported to each of their home countries for full rites and funerals. Commanding officers had more difficult duties to perform including attending to their own duties. The regional directors would be informing relatives of the deceased in person and would assist in arranging with any needs, including funeral arrangements. A third stack contained reports submitted regarding the inmates who had been killed... no, murdered, during the attack on Omega Facility. One last stack held all the work orders and reports subsequent to the battle. But all three stacks did not churn Betty's stomach like the single sheet of paper they surrounded.

The facsimile that sat before her was an order to, extensibly, appear before Global Justice's security council in a closed meeting to debrief the members of the attack on the Omega Facility and to discuss the crisis now facing Global Justice's role in international crime fighting. Betty knew that was just political double-talk for "are we going to keep funding your ass, if it's going to get kicked so badly."

At the coffee table, Will Du sat on the floor, checking through the sheaves of paper, writing his own pile of forms that would eventually end up on Betty's desk for approval. He was doing the filling, something Betty was interminably grateful for. With the young man's indomitable will, on task focus, eagerness to please and overall drive for perfectionism, he was the perfect choice as her temporary aide de camp. He was steadily working his way to the last five inches of forms when the heavy oak door opened to admit a well rested blond.

In each hand, she held two mugs of coffee. She silently put one mug on the coffee table before the intense young man, who nodded his thanks without taking his eyes from the Repatriation form he was writing on. She then walked over to Betty, who had her eyes closed, her arms resting on the desk, her fingers steepled in thought. She shifted the shortest pile of forms aside and nestled the second mug in the space she created, taking care not to spill. Then she put her hands on the blue clad woman's shoulders.

"You still smell like smoke and oil grease," Vivian sniffed, teasing slightly.

"Yes," was her only reply.

"Did you get a chance to shower?"

"Yes."

"I suppose you won't be going home tonight, hunh?"

"No."

"Is there anything I can help with?"

"No- wait."

Vivian twitched slightly before slowly pressing her fingers firmly and rubbing the nape of Betty's neck. Hard rolls of tense muscle shifted under her touch. Betty's good eye was closed, a deep thrumming rumbled in her throat.

"Are you busy, though?" the Director of Global Justice asked.

"No, I finished my research a few days ago, remember? And my GJ stuff isn't very complicated or demanding." Vivian smirked at her boss, who returned a wry smile.

"I need you to review Doctor Lipsky's old schematics and the research that we've collected over the years. Apparently he has been abducted."

Vivian paused in thought for a moment.

"I recall seeing the blueprints for his L'il Diablo robots. Memory metal and harmonic energy sources. Brilliant, and utterly mad. He really is a genius, unfortunately for everyone involved. Some interesting theories and prototypes, highly experimental and unstable."

"Thank you," Betty murmured, then raised her voice. "Agent Du, please get Doctor Lipsky's secure research key for Miss Porter."

"Yes, sir." The tanned young man stood quickly with a sheave of papers in his hand. He dropped them on Betty's repatriation pile before heading out the heavy oak door. The blond continued to knead the sore and stiff muscles.

"What do you want me to look for?" Vivian asked, her hands busy.

"I'm not quite sure. Drew Lipsky has always had a flair for unusual designs and applications. He has a very good intuitive understanding of molecular and psychological mechanics, biomedical applications. Conventional applications and solutions are beyond him." Betty's smile was crooked as she considered her request. "Just take a look, perhaps trend some of his notes and research, and we'll see."

"Alright." The heavy oak door opened and Will walked in, an armoured titanium briefcase in his hand. He handed the case to the blond scientist.

"Your RFID's been pre-programmed into the security scanner," he said as he passed the briefcase to her.

"Thanks Will." Vivian turned back to her lover to wave goodbye. "Well, I guess I'd better get cracking. Time's important, right? And you have that thing with the security council..."

"Yes. Thank you for reminding me," Betty grimaced, eyeing the departing blond. The woman laughed in response as she swayed out the heavy security portal. Her eye fell back onto the paper before her and she sighed. Some days, her covered socket seemed to ache more than usual.

And some days, it just hurt like hell.

- KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP -

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Shego muttered. She was sitting in the back of a rickety old cargo plane. The sound of the twin turbo-prop engines was dulled only by the black helmet Kim had produced prior to take off from a runway just outside of Middleton, along with a full set of gear and her old catsuit. And just before she produced a black scarf for a blindfold. The vibration of the fuselage made her afraid that the rivets would start popping out. Shego raise a hand to her covered eyes, then lowered it with a grimace.

"I heard that," smirked a sly voice in the radio built into the helmet. "But a bet is a bet. I beat you fair and square back on the oil rig and you owe me." Kim sat next to the blindfolded woman. Her plum and black thermal bodysuit twinned Shego's forest green and black. Both were belted into five-point harnesses bolted to metallic utilitarian seats, whose cushions had certainly seen better days. Kim just hoped they were pest free. The copilot, Nancy, had assured them they were when they had boarded the old N2501. The interior wasn't the dirtiest that Kim had seen but the creaking noises did concern her quite a bit.

"Yeah, yea, and I keep my promises, and shit. We've been in this flying rust-bucket for the last four hours, Pumpkin. If you were hoping to jump start my engine at twenty-three thousand feet with a couple of thousand horsepowered Limy vibrators, you've got a lot to learn. Oh, and residual sarcasm is purely coincidental."

"Trust me, you'll think I'm nuts when you see where I'm taking you."

"I already know you're nuts, and it's been four hours, so it's either Canada or the Caribbean."

"Shego!" Kim swatted the grinning woman on the shoulder. "Don't ruin my surprise with your ex-thief sensibilities!"

"Whoever told you I was an 'ex-'thief, Cupcake? Besides, I'm a ninja. I have total ninja training."

"Then show me some ninpo, you know, ninja magic."

"What makes you think I haven't?"

"Yeah, whatever." Kim waved dismissively, even though she knew that Shego was blindfolded.

"What, you think ninjas always say 'ninja, vanish!' and then throw a smoke bomb?"

"What, you mean they don't?"

"It's all misdirection and misinformation, Princess. Ninpo is all about mindfucks."

"Oh come off it," Kim scoffed. "You're a Chinese traditionalist through and through. Shaolin, five animals, the whole shebang."

"Well, if this ride is any indication, you won't be banging anything, anytime soon." Kim blushed at that.

"Th-that's n-not what I meant!" Kim sputtered into the com. Shego chuckled in reply. "You should talk; you're the one everyone thinks is dating a primrose with blue skin."

"I told you, that was to get that fucking Nobel octopus off me." Shego shrugged. "Besides, I'm not gay."

_Wh-what...!?!_ Kim stared at the green-tinted villainess. Then a sly look crossed her face.

"Oh.... really....?" Kim unbuckled her harness and slid next to the ex-villainess.

"Hey, what are you doing, Pumpkin?" Shego nearly squeaked as she felt a hand light on her thigh.

"Just testing your..." a hand trailed up the thigh, "...theory..." Shivers spread through the green tinted woman.

Kim jumped back with a yelp.

"Sorry Cupcake, but I hate it when people crowd me..." Shego apologized with an unrepentant smirk as the fading green flare of plasma on her clawtips dissipated at a snap of her fingers. The redhead rubbed her arm, chuckling ruefully.

"I guess we're practically there," Kim sighed.

"Yeah, we have been dropping in speed and altitude the last little bit, haven't we?"

They turned at the scraping sound at the front of the cargo plane. A thin young man stumbled into the cargo area as the door rebounded and slammed shut behind him. He steadied himself and gave the two amused women a sheepish grin.

"Ah... M-miss Possible...?" He stuttered into his muff-eared headset, his face pinking under his unruly brush top hair. "The captain said to tell you you're over your... uh... eee-zee...?"

"Thanks, Reggie! And thank Captain Kate for me. We'll use the bay door, okay?" The young man nodded, his eyes travelling along the walls and floor of the cargo bay in an attempt not to look directly at the two women. As Shego reached for her harness buckles, Kim slid close and whispered "Blindfold stays on, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah." The ex-thief waved the red-head off. Shego unstrapped herself and walked, blindfolded, over to the embarrassed young man and stood very close. Reggie blushed heavily. Kim nearly growled at the sight, but stopped herself, half in shock and half in embarrassment. "That's Dee-Zee, Ginger. Don't hurt yourself, okay?" she smiled as she patted the now brightly flushed cheek.

"Yes, Miss Shego!" he squeaked, backing away, his hands raised. When he bumped into the cockpit portal, he whirled, struggled with the door for a moment, yanked it open and bolted from the cargo bay, closing the metal door with a slam.

Shego began to laugh. Even Kim quirked a smile, covering her mouth before breaking into a fit of giggles. They made their way merrily to the bay door. Kim punched a spring-loaded red button and the ramp opened ponderously. Sparkling blue-green water spread before them. Kim checked Shego's harness and buckles as the door continued to slowly crank open, then turned as the woman returned the favour by feel. It was all Kim could do not to tremble as the woman's slim fingers skated over her harness.

"You've got some sort of freefall fetish, Kimmie? This is the second time we're in a plane together that we're jumping out of... again."

"No more than you do, I think," Kim shot back.

"Hey, ever joined the mile high-"

"No!"

"Aw, you're blushing aren't you."

"The blindfold stays on!"

"Fine, fine, jeeze. If that's the only way..." Without another word, Shego sprinted down the ramp and leapt into the air.

"Show-off," Kim muttered with a small smile, before following the ex-villainess out of the aeroplane and into adrenaline heaven.

The air rushed by the her as she plummeted, a purple and black falling star chasing a green and purple comet. Kim stayed right by Shego as they fell. She wanted to be able to pull the woman's release cord in case the woman ignored the pinging of her altimeter. Shego was tracking slowly back and forth, contrails streaming out behind her hands... condensation trails? Kim's eyes narrowed as she spotted the plasma lit fingertips. She rolled her eyes even as she chased after the woman. She slowly gained as the air slipstreamed around her smaller, slimmer body.

_The only thing it's good for I suppose_, she thought to herself.

Suddenly, the woman jetted away from her, the contrail increasing in density and size. The air around Kim suddenly waffled and wavered violently, spinning her away and to the left. After a moment of panic and a twisting view of sea and sky, she swallowed and took a deep breath. She tried not to think about the rapidly approaching surface far below her or the speeding woman before her. She spread her arms and legs slowly, guided by instinct in attempting to control her spin. Far away, and getting farther, she could see Shego's brightly glowing hands pulsating rapidly.

The hero pulled her arms in and leaned forward. The air roared in her ears. She needed to get to the rapidly disappearing, blindfolded woman, but the green glow continued to pull away in the backdrop of a sparkling blue ocean.

Her altimeter began to ping. She had passed the six thousand foot mark and still the green glow was falling faster and faster. She had to get to the woman before she ended up a big green spray! This was all her fault, insisting on the blindfold, and now, Shego was calling her on such a dangerously illegal jump condition. Kim straightened and braced herself, then clicked her heels together.

Flame erupted from her heels. She groaned at the sudden kick in acceleration, the rocket heels driving her past her freefall velocity, sending her hurtling toward the green glow. She spread her arms only slightly to help her track the woman as she speared toward the black and green clad figure. Her altimeter pinged again. Three thousand feet!

_Oh crap!_

She banked and slid around infront of the fast falling woman. Kim could see Shego's relaxed smile through the helmet visor. She manoeuvred carefully, coming closer, closer. She reached out her hand quickly, attempting to get at the woman's ripcord style chute release.

A frantic continuous pinging sounded. Two thousand feet!

Kim lunged forward.

But as she went forward, a black gloved hand blocked her outreached arm and pulled the hero's own ripcord.

She cried out at the jolt and the sudden disorientation as her pilot chute jettisoned. The deployment of her ram-air parachute was excruciating. She grabbed at the swaying piloting tethers in an effort to stop swaying. When she was finally stable, she looked frantically for any sign of Shego....

It was at that moment that she heard the laughter.

Her face flamed a bright red as she hauled on the right tether, pulling the parachute around to see a black coloured ram-air and a woman laughing uproariously.

Kim let the chute out a bit and dropped lower, coming alongside the exuberant thief.

"Sheeego!!" Kim shouted into the com, annoyed at the woman's continued merriment. If she could have stomped her foot, she would have.

"Oh come on, Princess, you know you love it, saving people. Ya know, turns your crank."

"I do not, it does not!"

"Sure, whatever. So you'd better tell me where we're going, since I'm still blindfolded and all."

Kim craned her neck left, then right before spotting their destination. A densely covered white sand island, dominated by a large volcano. She quickly scanned the island for a landing spot when a cheshire grin spread across her face.

"Over to the right, Shego!" She watched as the woman banked slowly to get the correct bearing. "Okay, stop! A little left... stop! Now straight on 'til morning! Or about two miles."

"Right on, Kimmie."

**- KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - **

"Gawd, Princess, I still can't believe you made me drop into a fuckin' volcano blindfolded!"

"You know it turns your crank," Kim quipped, checking the power level of her battle suit. Still lots of green to go, good. The redhead was leading the woman deeper and deeper through a dark, smooth walled lava tube.

"So, are we there yet? Don't tell me we're here to fight another lame-assed villain."

"Watch the ledge here," Kim said as she hopped down gently. "Almost there, and nope, not a villain." Kim could see the phosphorous edge of a steep drop coming up. She walked up to the ledge quickly and peered over the lip. The tunnel opened twenty feet up from a vaulted cavern floor. "We're going to drop from here." She turned and with a sharp hiss, her wrist grapple cracked into the tunnel floor, embedding itself. Kim leaned on it a few times, then put a hand on Shego's shoulder as she came up to stop her. She wordlessly guided the woman's slim fingers to the tension line before hopping out. The tension rotors in her wrist played out the grapple line and as she neared the cavern bottom, she tensed her forearm muscles. The rotors slowed her descent and as she lit on the rocky terrain, she pulled out more line.

"Okay, come on down!" Shego slipped smoothly over the lip, and slid down slowly. She flipped down the last two feet. "You are such a showoff," Kim giggled.

"Takes one to know one," the ex-thief shrugged. "So I hope this remote island you've brought me to-"

"Shego!" Kim ground out, annoyed at the woman poking holes into her surprise.

"-Has a beach or something."

"Fine, you can take off the blindfold. Shego reached up and removed the helmet Kim had insisted she continue wearing, then slipped off the black satin eye cover and looked around morosely. Kim could see from the woman's expression that she was unimpressed and slightly disappointed at what she saw.

The woman turned a full circle before facing the teen hero.

"You flew me all the way to one of Drakken's old lairs, for what? You are so not getting in my pants this way."

"Yes, it's an ex-lair, but which lair?"

"The one with the volcano, duh. In the Caribbean. The place where he hatched the nanotick caper, and-" Shego stopped suddenly.

"And where we first met," Kim grinned. Shego turned abruptly and stalked off. Kim kept up with her. The woman ducked into a smaller room that opened and fell away into a deep if narrow chasm.

"This is the shark pool," Kim remembered. "Where Drakk- er, I mean, Drew hung me and Ron above a pool of them." She moved to stand at the ledge of the drop. The ex-villainess moved to stand beside her. They both stared down into the dark shadows of the rift.

"And where I found out you were a cheerleader."

"Whom you said you hated."

"Did I say that? Hate is such a strong word."

"Well, do you still hate cheerleaders?" Shego glanced at Kim, then stared across the dried up alligator pool.

"No... no, I guess not." Kim smiled and walked back into the destroyed lair's main room. After a moment, Shego followed.

"So, you just used up your bet to bring me out here to reminisce? That's kinda lame and tame, Pump-" Shego ducked as an electric blue heel left a sparkling blue trail of light where her head had just been. She flipped back a few paces and fell into a ready stance.

"Princess, what the fuck?" as she faced off with Kim, who was in her own stance.

"Y'know, we never got a chance to fight, really, at that first meeting. So I thought I'd serve up a no holds barred stress reliever."

"That's messed up, Kimmie," Shego smirked at the redhead.

"Hey, free falling, a hot babe on a volcanic island and a throw down in an exotic locale... what's not to like?"

"You're such a thrill junkie," Shego said, circling to the right.

"Takes one to know one," Kim threw back as she mirrored the movement. After a pause she spoke again. "So, game on?"

Shego paused for a moment, then dropped her stance. The look on her face was one of stress and worry.

"Kim, what are we doing here..." Kim stopped too. "Shouldn't we be, y'know, working to find Drew? I mean, Global Justice was attacked, Yamanouchi..."

"You think this is a bad idea, huh?" Kim sighed. "Look, Shego, we can't do much until our support network gets itself together and sources out a target for us, even if it is just for investigation. But until then, we need to be able to focus and make good decisions. And to do that... we need to relax a bit and rest ourselves."

"And this includes duking it out at the bottom of an active volcano, three hours out from the nearest transport?" Shego snarked, her voice flat.

"Doctor Director agreed to have a hypersonic transport made available and I still have my Kimmunicator. If anything happens, we'll be thirty minutes out."

"Kimmie, I don't know..." Kim finally dropped her stance. She didn't want to keep fighting the woman; she had just wanted them to decompress a bit, to get them into the right frame of mind. "I,... I just need to do something, Kim." Kim could feel her own control slipping, hearing the heaviness in Shego's quiet voice.

"I'm worried too. You don't think I wanted to light out of Middleton after hearing that Ron was hurt? One of my parents is in the hospital because of these guys! You don't think I want to beat them down as fast as I can? I can't be halfway around the world in Japan and be at my parents' side at the same time." Kim began to tremble, her hands balling into tight fists. She took in a deep, shaking breath and let it out slowly. Her shaking stopped. "But you know what? I need to do this. To be at my best when the time comes. And I need you to be at your best too. Because..." Kim sighed.

"You're the only one I'd trust to have my back," the red-head said, her head bowed, her face lit with a rueful smirk. There was silence for a moment. A long moment. A really long moment. A really long, awkweird-

"Hey Pumpkin," Shego called to her.

"Yeah?" Kim looked up.

"Game on!" the green-tinted woman called as plasma flared around her hands and she leapt, claws extended. Kim charged forward to meet the woman's attack, a battle bracketed by twin grins.

**- KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - - KP - **

A short squat man stalks down a dark round ceilinged corridor, past the sharp glaring pools of light spread by the overhead lamps. As he passes each the darkness seems to cling to him. Behind him, swaying luxuriously in the wake of the one eyed man, trailing a pair of long one metre fans in an insouciant, artless grip, as she sashays down the corridor, is the white clad Tien. Beside her, pacing, is the dark and dangerous Dei, the definition of his muscles rippling as he followed the leader of the Worldwide Evil Empire. They reach the end of the corridor, where a door slides open to reveal a sinister sight. Under the darkened dome of the room is an isolation chamber made of nonconducting crystal. Figures in hazmat suits scurry along a battlement of instruments and flashing displays of waveforms and numbers. Two others are pushing a grotesque and dribbling lump of something that lay on a wheeled gurney. It might have once been human but is now only a quivering mass of broken flesh and bone. The entrance to the isolation chamber is through a set of double doors. A purple and gold clad simian held within an orange energy field, floats beside a coroner's table. On top of the cold metallic slab is an indistinct figure, bound tightly, completely immobilized by glowing metal manacles welded to the frame. Stretched taut, the straining tendons silhouette against the pristine lights outside the darkened chamber and is obscured in an odd darkness. The external lights glint off a devilish round ring with metal rods pinning the head and neck into immobility. In those dark eyes, is a deep despair and self loathing. A technician in a white hazmat suit leans close, adjusting the straps of the gag. Another, looking up at the new arrivals, hurries for the doors. He doffs his hazmat helmet as he emerges through the second set of doors.

"Sir, you're here for the progress report?"

"Yes, Tri-Gamma. Begin." The man swallows convulsively at the predatory grin of the powerfully built one-eyed man. He coughs nervously.

"Well, the new subject seems to pass all tests. The others were unable to contain and retain the orange energy without being... uh... adversely affected..." his eyes glance at the gurney that is being wheeled out. "However, the new subject seems to be able to withstand the energy waveform. We've had her on Miss Flanner's miniature shield generator for about thirty hours now... It's broken level four and level seven restraints, so we're using level ten with energy shielding. The implant has also been observed to retain vibrancy from within the shield, as long as Lord Yono pours specified amount of energy into the energy capsule. A few more tests and we can proceed with the implantation procee-"

"Do it now. It will survive, I am sure. But first, let me have a word with Lord Yono and the subject. Stand by with the shield device for the implantation." The man nodded without hesitation. Tien and Dei strolled in opposite directions, nonchalantly moving to opposite sides, flanking the chamber as technicians shied away from their presence.

Gemini enters the doors, passing the hazmat suits and walking directly into the chamber.

"Lord Yono," he nods to the floating simian. "I have come to fulfil my promise. It's an honour to have you give us even a little assistance."

Yono the Destroyer works his jaw, his stubbornly protruding underbite grinding.

"Yes," the simian growls, eventually. "I can smell the bloodlust in you... Gemini."

Gemini gestures curtly at the man who had adjusted the gag. The man nearly stumbles in his haste to obey and at the touch of a button on the customized coroner's slab, the servos whir, pivoting the entire metal rectangle. Gemini leans close as the dark, fearful eyes pass by, flicking across his horrendous grin. A large square hole in the table leaves the neck of the subject exposed. Gemini gestures for Tri-Gamma to proceed. The man picks up an odd little tool that snaps onto a small glowing sphere. Inside a translucent glowing energy field, is a glistening eye with a long, root-like optic nerve. Tri-Gamma carefully manoeuvres the glowing shield device and its monstrous cargo to Yono. The shield flashes as the device is passed through the simian's retention shielding. He lifts a bored hand, and with a flash of yellowish energy, the tiny sphere begins to glow. Inside, the optic nerve suddenly jerks, and begins to move back and forth. As the senior technician carefully removes the glowing, two inch shield from Yono's energy field and approaches the table, the nerve ending begins to lash back and forth, as if in anticipation. The subject, now completely inverted, whimpers.

Tri-Gamma gingerly places the shielding on the exposed neck of the subject, who jerks at the contact. The eye is now writhing madly. A metallic collar with the rear quarters hinged open is slid on the subject's neck from below by the second technician, who then drills it into place. The figure groans as the screws drive into bone. The second technician scrambles back and to a terminal beside the hanging figure and, after a brief check at the monitor, nods at Tri-Gamma.

Tri-Gamma turns to Gemini, whose eyes are gleaming in the dim light, the snarling smile on his face. He leans down slightly and stares the heaving figure in those dark beady eyes and raises a hand.

"Time to fulfil your destiny, my child," his tombstone teeth shining. He drops his hand.

The tiny shield winks out as the collar slams shut simultaneously. The figure begins to howl as the technician watches the monitor. On the screen the writhing optic nerve pierces the neck of the screeching subject and slowly works itself into the flesh, seeking and burrowing blindly. Several minutes pass as the screaming reaches a fever pitch. The monitor shows the optic tendrils reaching between vertebrae. As it impales the spinal column, the scream suddenly ceases. In the deafening silence, Gemini lifts up on his toes and peers into the glowing orange shielded window of the collar. Completely embedded in the neck is a sticky, yellowed, blood shot eye, staring right back at him.

He begins to chuckle, then begins laughing with malignant glee. The hazmat suits cannot conceal the horrified trembling of the technicians around him. He turns to Yono the Destroyer.

"Now shall I fulfil our promise, and you shall have your revenge! Yamanouchi, the legacy of Toshiro, ends tomorrow!"


	16. Chapter 16: The End of an Era

A/N: WOW. I can't believe how long it's taken for this to come to light. My two betas have abandoned the project; okay, not abandoned, but they've moved on to other things in their lives, so this is now beta-less as well. I seem to have very poor luck with betas. So this will be less polished than previous chapters. Only about four more to go in this fic! We're climbing to the cataclysmic ending!

- KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP - KP -

**Blood and Bondage**  
_Chapter Sixteen: The End of an Era  
by sweetPixiesmile_

His sunken eyes snapped open, sweat pouring down his wrinkled and spotted brow. Though age had receded them deep into his head, the brightness of his dark irises were undiminished. He pushed up slowly with a grunt. The weakness he was feeling, he knew, was from tapping into his chi, his inner strength, the life force of spirit. He turned to look at another form, resting under crimson bamboo patterned covers that rose and fell in slow rhythmic tides of slumber.

Even as he gazed upon the greying hair of the woman whom he'd known for over fifty years, she seemed as spry and feisty as the first day he met her. It had been one of those hot humid days of the summer, and, stinging from the ignominy of defeat and the tumult of being catapulted into the position of Dai Sensei after the ritual seppuku of the previous Dai Sensei, who had unwisely allowed himself to be caught up in the near religious fervour of patriotism, Ichiro had gathered his wa and arrived promptly at the room where he was to meet the Allied Spy Master of the Asian theatre. He had wondered what the Spy Master would be like. Would he be a tall, blond haired, white devil? Or worse, one of those muscled, broad nosed black devils?

When he had entered the room, preoccupied as he was, he did not take note of the person standing along the open windows, gazing at the tranquil and cultivated inner courtyard, the stream that ran through the manicured lawn sparkling as it bounced down from a high rock and danced mockingly past aesthetically placed stones. He crossed to the window, his thoughts filled with a turmoil and confusion. What kind of concessions would the American Spy Master demand? What new humiliations would the Emperor have to endure? Ichiro decided that he needed to keep his cool demeanour that had won the admiration and approval of Yamanouchi, and despite his young age, had elevated him to the position of Dai Sensei. He needed to distance himself from any personal investiture that he may have felt. The Chinese had been already pushing the Imperial Army out of the mainland, and much of that was due to the support and skill of the Allied forces, and their spies. Tenacity, audacity and brilliance were the qualities that sprang to his mind, traitorous to some in their positive attribution, when he examined some of the reports on the operations that that were roaring successes for the "Allies".

All of a sudden, he knew he was not alone. The presence had not been an aggressive coil ready to be sprung, full of bloodlust and destruction. It was a calm and wary atmosphere, a predatory observation. Ichiro had turned slowly to see a pair of piercing blue eyes, immediately struck dumb at the person standing before him.

He smiled at the memory of the lithe young girl of sixteen who stood a head taller than he, dressed in a chrysanthemum patterned, pink silk cheung sam that clung to compact curves. It was practically naked compared to the formal Japanese kimono that covered the entire body but for the face. Hair like liquid bronze fell down her back, ending where a hip high sarong slit began, exposing a tantalizingly long leg. A leg that was as solid as it was slim, with well defined muscles. His eyes lifted to a fine eyebrow arched over long lashed eyes. Ichiro had felt the nettled competence of Carolyn Possible even before he spoke. And when he did speak, he asked if the Allied Spy Master would be joining them soon.

Carolyn's eyes had flashed.

"I am the Special Operations Regional Director," she had said, frostily, in heavily accented Japanese. Ichiro chuckled to himself as he remembered his incredulous response. The girl's eyes had glinted dangerously at his gaping visage. "And I note that your superior is late. Is he coming at all, little one?"

He remembered the suppression of fury he felt at her dismissive words, but his centre of peace and power was firm and unshaken.

"It is my privilege to be at your disposal." Carolyn's reaction was a twin to his own, her eyes widening, her face darkening as she took in his tiny form.

"You must be joking," she smiled.

"I assure you, I am not."

Ichiro shook himself. It was not like him to wallow in sentimentality. He and Carolyn Possible had gone through much, so much. But he had missed his window of opportunity with her all those decades ago, when he chose to honour the Code of The Lotus and married a high spirited kunoichi. The young ninja was fractious and wilful, but a brilliant strategist and fighter. Much like the woman who lay sleeping in a futon just mere feet away. Akemi had been very understanding, and after a few tumultuous years, they had come to enjoy a deep friendship.

She had borne him a son and a daughter.

Although they had shown aptitude in their early years, the debilitating injury Akemi had suffered during a mission that not only cut short her career, but also robbed her the use of her legs, changed his children's perspective of the ninja life. Thus, immediately after their graduation to full ninja status, they left active duty to take support positions in the mainstream of society. Each had graduated from highly respected universities with honours due to their disciplined lives and had taken respectable positions. Nana became a lawyer in the Ministry of Justice and Toshiro, a building developer. Nana became a woman who preferred the company of women, and Toshiro married a talented childhood friend who had also taken a societal position. Ichiro tried to stay in touch, but with Akemi's refusal to blame their father and Nana's increasingly resentful demeanour, even the Dai Sensei of Yamanouchi had to admit defeat, and withdrew to a peripheral position where he could observe and periodically send letters or gifts. Toshiro continued to allow him to visit periodically, hosting a family dinner with him every so often. Nana would make unpredicatble appearances, if only to make sly, surly and biting remarks. Ichiro immersed himself in his work, thinking that life had settled into a mildly uncomfortable routine.

And then, Ichiro's greatest joy was born.

When Toshiro, in a fit of sentiment, asked Ichiro to name his newborn baby girl, a new light was poured into Dai Sensei's life. At three months, Yori was able to swim twenty feet, unassisted. Her large eyes were dark calm pools that watched anything and everything. She started walking at nine months and displayed amazing dexterity and agility. On her first birthday, she spoke her first word "Ojii-san". Grandpa.

He could still recall the explosive joy and surprise when his son asked that Yori be admitted to the school. Nana had argued strenuously against the idea and had eventually left the family in deep anger, never to return. Toshiro, on the other hand, had always felt that he had shirked his duty when he left the school and had not returned his gratitude by accepting missions. So when Yori became four, Toshiro presented his serious, beautiful child to the school to complete the training he and his wife had already begun.

Yori had shown an amazing aptitude for all things. Quick in both body and mind, calm and astonishingly creative, she won the admiration of her sensei, excelling in both the shadow and hidden arts. Before her tenth birthday, she was already challenging most of her sensei in their respective fields, but was too polite and reserved to provoke hard feelings.

On the most part, the quiet, lovely girl went through her early years with a charisma that attracted no shortage of friends or suitors. The only bump along her path had been the time she had her fortune read by a sensei who did so for all her youth graduating class. Marked during her fourteenth birthday as the one destined to be matched with the ultimate master of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar, Yori was furious. That announcement unleashed a streak of rebelliousness and anger in the young ninja which culminated in her adoption of the short, sharply angled bob cut which became her signature as much as her pledge and penance after she returned to calm.

The dark blight within Ichiro's granddaughter had ended the day she had returned with a goofy looking blond boy from the airport. There was no outward sign, but Ichiro could practically sense the light footed skipping of her aura in those days. It was a tumultuous pull of diametrically opposed feelings: happiness for her happiness, consternation at her immersed reaction. Fukushima, a talented young shinobi and longtime rival for Yori's heart had also noticed it... to the young man's great and everlasting shame. Even so, Yori was his pride and joy. She meant everything to him.

And now, she had disappeared. Kidnapped by the enemy.

Dai Sensei felt a strong tremor in his bones. He closed his eyes; if he relaxed and turned his inner sight to the swells and the lulls of time and space, he could practically see the karmic lines appearing and reappearing, forming a demanding, complex image. Something monumental was going to happen today and Ichiro knew he would recognize it when it came. He knew that he would be ready, and not disgrace his ancestors, the school, and his granddaughter.

Today would be a day to remember.

"Ichi-kun..." the soft voice pierced his contemplative reverie like a ray of sunlight and he barely restrained a smile. Even after all these years, Lynn-chan's aura was something he felt finely attuned to. And when he turned to look at the opened eyes of the person lying in a futon beside him, he did not see the shrunken, wizened face of an elderly woman in her eighties, but rather, a proud and fiery girl with sun bleached hair, eyes flashing with challenge and mystery.

"Lynn-chan."

"It's today... isn't it."

"Yes, my dear, dear friend."

"What will you do?"

"I will uphold the honour of my clan and the school."

"I should've guessed," Carolyn Possible sighed. She flipped back the delicately embroidered comforter and slid her legs underneath her with an agility that belied her age. "Well, you can't do any upholding if you're lying around like an invalid," she grinned mischievously as she rose to her knees, then her feet.

Not to be outdone by his friend, Ichiro got up. Together they rolled their mattresses, stacking neatly folded comforters and pillows on top. Carolyn padded silently behind a privacy screen as Ichiro heard a soft scratching at the door.

"Come," he said.

The shoji slid open to reveal Hirotaka in a formal kneeling position. Behind and slightly to his right was Keiko, the wild pink haired survivor of the older generation of ninja students.

"Dai Sensei," Hirotaka began. "The students have been sent home, the sensei sent to safe houses. All assets have been secured..." Dai Sensei's eyes did not betray the roiling anger inside him at the deaths of his students and fellow ninja. He was calm, his mind clear.

"And Stoppable-san?" he asked. He could feel the sudden flare of anger, quickly dampened, from the young man, who's best friend, perhaps his only friend in the world, was missing.

"He... has just awakened, Dai Sensei." Hirotaka shifted and bowed from his waist as Ichiro heard Carolyn emerge from the privacy screen in her trademark cream coloured captain's turtleneck and dark green slacks. "Possible Sensei."

"You have done well, Hirotaka-kun. Yori-chan?" Carolyn walked over to the table and sat, her eyes unfocused, but Ichiro knew she was paying sharp attention to the conversation.

Hirotaka twitched and the girl behind him looked away.

"Stoppable-san has confirmed Yori-san's capture. He... blames himself. We have much of the school's resources committed to her discovery." Dai Sensei could feel the anger and resentment digging its claws deeper into the young man. It was clear that he was in complete agreement with the young blond's feelings.

"Have you requested any additional assistance?"

"I... have not." Dai Sensei's demeanour did not change, but inside he sighed. There were times that requests for help were not signs of weakness, if asked the right way and to the correct people.

"Then consider contacting the Global Justice East Asia Division. I feel that we will be needing their long range scanning capabilities and international network and expertise."

"Hai." Hirotaka vibrated minutely with reluctance, but immediately acquiesced.

"I must speak with Stoppable-san without delay," Ichiro said with a finality that brooked no discussion as he stood, gesturing for the two young ninja to rise as well. As he passed the well-travelled man, he said, "walk with me, Hiro."

The ninja blinked, a light blush colouring his tanned cheeks. Behind him, Carolyn smiled as she began to process of boiling water for tea.

They walked in silence, their split toe covered feet making no noise. They emerged from the residence into the courtyard. The grounds keeper had repaired what he could of the rock garden before being evacuated on the last transport out of the mountains. Dai Sensei could feel the swirling confusion behind him as he paused to gaze across the gentle circular lines drawn in the white gravel.

"You have grown much, this past year," he spoke into the silence.

"Hai, Dai Sensei," was the response.

"But some things remain the same, while others... do not."

Behind him, he could hear the slight intake of breath for a reply that never came. Dai Sensei smiled at the young man's restraint. They could hear the herons calling to one another from the nearby stream. Dai Sensei closed his eyes, thinking, considering. He could hear the silence behind him, like a heavy stone driving itself into the ground.

"You are angry, my son?" The heavy weight behind him became a raging, crushing force.

"Hai, Dai Sensei."

"Tell me, why are you angry?"

"Yori trusted that fool, Stoppable-san, and now she is lost." The gritted pain of Hirotaka's response was a twin mirror to his own, but reckless and insatiable.

"There are things that this world can bring us both laughter and grief together. Family... and friends. But my son, three things I leave with you here, four sayings I give you. Contemplate them. The first is regarding Stoppable-san. You may not trust him, but tell me who is his greatest friend? The second is this: a jug is filled, drop by drop. You will not be punished for your anger; your anger will punish you. The last is the school. Vision without action is a daydream; action without vision, a nightmare. Remember this." Dai Sensei half-turned and glanced at the tall young ninja behind him. "Now, I must see Stoppable-san, he is in his room, yes?"

"H-hai, Dai Sensei." Hirotaka's voice was hoarse and husky. Dai Sensei wondered if he'd said too much... no. Hirotaka-san would understand.

"I will continue on alone. This garden is perfect for contemplation; you may find benefit here."

With that, the old man walked silently away. Ichiro wondered if Hirotaka would take his words and consider them wisely, or would it further inflame his wrath. Loyal, if not faithful. Honourable if not dependable. Even so, every river had to begin somewhere.

Before he entered the building for the senior students, he could feel the crushing aura of disillusionment and despair and frowned. He wound his way through the empty corridors. Not twenty-four hours ago, the hall had bustled with happy, laughing ninja, like children on their way to a festival. And now, almost a whole generation of students, lost. Ichiro stopped at Ron's room and scratched at the shoji. Hearing no reply did so a second time. The shoji slid open, and seeing no one, Ichiro looked down to see Ron's erstwhile companion and friend, Rufus, straining against the wooden frame.

"I am coming in, Stoppable-san," he called out.

Ron was lying under the comforter, staring up at the ceiling. Rufus returned to the side of his friend and master, putting his hand on the blond's shoulder in concern.

Sensei folded himself into a formal kneeling position and sat beside the despondent teen. They remained silent for almost twenty minutes, Ichiro pushing at the dark aura with his own in an attempt to pierce the dark thoughts.

Eventually Ron stirred.

"Sensei," he said, sitting up. He got up and sat in a seiza, the same formal kneeling position that Ichiro was in. He put his hands palms flat on the ground and bowed, his forehead touching the tatami. "I failed. I failed you and I failed Yori. And worse yet, I've lost the mystical monkey power! I'm useless, worse than useless."

"Stoppable-san," Ichiro said, using his most gentle voice, willing his aura to flare against the dark, devouring mist that surrounded the man. He placed his hand on the bowed head and nearly recoiled from the jolt he felt as his chi flowed in a searching trickle. There was a gaping... hole in the boy's chi. No... not a hole.

It was as if the grass had been torn out forcibly, but the roots... the roots were deep and still hidden. He needed to encourage the roots to flower and bloom once again. But to do so would drain his already weak body, leaving a lifeless husk, and he would have need of at least as much of his remaining chi as possible. But perhaps...

"Has there ever been a time when Possible-san has not been able to take a mission, yet you have?" The blond boy's head rose slightly.

"I... what are you asking me, Master Sensei? I don't..." Ron shook his head.

"Please, indulge an old man," Ichiro replied smoothly. "Has there?"

"Well,... yeah, I guess... that one time when she was sick... oh, and when I lost her library book, I tracked down a bunch of the villains to see if I'd dropped it there or something..." Ron looked up at Dai Sensei.

"And did you fail any of those attempts?"

"Well,... no..."

"Did you fall down?"

"No... not really,.. oh wait, I did when I went to Monkey Fist's castle, but I think we spoilt a plot before it started..."

"And did you lose your pants in any of those encounters?"

"Well, now that you mention it,... no I didn't..." Ron sat up, his face full of confusion. "Sensei, I don't understand what you're getting at. Are you getting all mystically on me again? 'Cause I _know_ there ain't no Bueno Nacho in these mountains!"

"You have been going on these missions with Possible-san since when?"

"Since we were twelve, during the Cuddle Buddy Caper."

"And yet, you frequently lose your pants or fall down when Possible-san is there. Why is that?"

"Uh... well, that's because I serve as the distraction,... y'know, the sidekick." Ron floundered for a moment. Ichiro could feel the shift in his aura, becoming lighter and lighter. He increased the flow of his chi from a trickle to a steady flow into the confused boy.

"Did anyone ask you to do so?"

"Well,... not really..."

"Did Possible-san ask you to do that?"

"No. Kim would never do that!"

"Stoppable-san. You cannot walk beside someone when all you do is look at their back," he said patting the boy's shoulder. "For you to grow and to protect those you love and those who love you, you must first grow. You must find your way beyond the comfortable and cozy cage if you are to soar like a hawk. Possible-san has already left the cage. What you do is for you to decide." Ron's face dropped into shadow as he looked down. When he looked back up, his eyes were anguished.

"Are you... are you saying that this is Kim's fault? 'Cause then we might have to have words..."

"No, Stoppable-san. Your loyalty to your friend is admirable. I am saying that you have made yourself Possible-san's perfect sidekick, but if you are to make your way without her, you must take responsibility. You must find the Ron Stoppable-san that exists within you, the one that completed those missions, the one that defeated Monkey Fist and Fukushima, the one that beat the Lorwardians and saved the Earth. It is _that_ Stoppable-san that we will need. That _Yori_ will need." Ichiro paused dramatically before continuing. "You have skill and talent untapped. All these years following your best friend into danger and you are both still whole?"

"When you put it like that," Ron sat back on his haunches. "I haven't the training Kim's had, but I'm able to hold off the goons enough to let Kim take on Shego..." Dai Sensei nodded encouragingly.

"And how many of these goons are there usually?"

"Oh, like ten or fifteen."

"Stoppable-san, there are not many ninja, or indeed, fighters in the world that could hold fifteen warriors at bay and not come out unscathed."

"But Yono took my Mystical Monkey Power! How am I supposed to beat that?"

"There are many rivers that have flowed into your life, Stoppable-san. And these rivers are waiting for you to finally come out of the depths." Ichiro paused for a moment, before saying, "Yori is not with us now. But I feel that she will have need of you. And you must be whole by then, or she may be lost-"

Ichiro stopped speaking as a tremendous flash of dread and oppressive chi flared through his subconsciousness. He wavered, swaying under the psychic onslaught of avarice and bloodlust. A hand reached out and steadied him.

"Master Sensei, are you alright?"

"Stoppable-san. Please take care of Yori-chan. We must go. The enemy has returned to finish what they started." Ichiro and Ron hurried outside to find the sky darkening into evening. A cruel wind had picked up and the herons had been driven off, tiny specks flying away.

"Ichi-kun!"

Ichiro turned to find Carolyn hurrying up with Keiko and Hirotaka in tow.

"I think we'll have guests at the front gate in about three minutes," Carolyn said as they arrived.

"Then we should meet them as good hosts should." He turned to Keiko. "Tanaka-san."

"Hai," Keiko bowed.

"Please take Stoppable-san to retrieve the Lotus Blade. It must not fall into the hands of the enemy."

"Hai!" Keiko grabbed Ron by the sleeve and pulled him, dragging the protesting blond to the storage building. Ichiro turned to Hirotaka and Carolyn.

"Let us greet our guests."

Ichiro turned and walked through the garden. This was it. He knew it in the marrow of his old bones. Calmly, he emerged from around the corner of the main building and stepped into the courtyard. The approach of the enemy was obvious; they were not bothering to hide their presence. The three martial artists stopped where the main walk that stretched from the gate stopped at the main building. Ichiro made a quick gesture and Hirotaka vanished. Carolyn looked into Ichiro's eyes for a long drawn out moment.

"Ichi-kun, I-" she stopped, at a loss for words to express what she was feeling. Her eyes said enough.

"I am grateful that you are here, Lynn-chan," he said. Whatever she saw in his own eyes, she nodded in reply. They turned to see dark figures emerging from the shattered gate.

They filed in slowly. Dark auras enveloped their grey and purple clad bodies. They formed up in two squares of fifty on either side of the main walk and waited, their mindless bodies still, the wind whistling past them. Sand and dirt rose in enveloping clouds until a figure began to resolve itself in the darkness of the shattered gate. Carolyn gasped as it stepped into the light.

"Karasu-Tengu..." Ichiro breathed. _How befitting_, he thought. The Kamikaze, Wind of the Gods, surrounded them, signalling change. The Word of the Gods, carried by their messenger, the Tengu. A Karasu-Tengu, one of the lords of martial arts, the Japanese Prometheus of armed and unarmed combat.

The figure was tall, perhaps six feet, and wore a black, visor like mask that resembled a beak, the mouth, cheeks and jaw shrouded by cloth. Its skinny body was covered with midnight blue feathers. Gnarled, clawed hands emerged from its wings. The legs were feathered until above the knee, where the thick dry hide of the reverse bending legs protruded, ending in razor sharp talons. A silver collar was tight around its neck, above black, loose trousers and vest. A red cloth belt secured the loose vest.

For long moments, the tableau held, the wind whistling past the motionless bodies.

Suddenly, the Tengu gave a reverberating screech and the mindless Worldwide Evil Empire goons charged. Carolyn surged forward and crashed into the massed ranks of the left side, her hands a blur as she hooked one mindless body after another, throwing them into their comrades, sowing confusion and disrupting the charge. Hirotaka appeared in the midst of the right side, his feet and hands blurring as he pummelled his foes around him. The right charge collapsed as the leading men turned to deal with the threat.

Ichiro was motionless, watching the Tengu across from him. Neither seemed inclined to join the struggling fray. It was an eerie battle, the only sounds of striking flesh, cracking bone and grunts of exertion from the two defenders. Seconds dragged on to minutes, as Carolyn and Hirotaka continued to fend off their attackers.

Suddenly, the Tengu whirled, flicking the left wing to the right. Ichiro reacted by slicing his hand horizontally. A burst of dark chi, the shape of a crescent, flew toward an unaware Hirotaka. Ichiro's own bright yellow chi blade intercepted the black one, deflecting it into the mass of purple grey bodies. Wherever the blades touched, blood boiled forth, and bone exposed. Just as quick, the Tengu flicked its right wing toward the left. Ichiro threw his own chi blade to protect Carolyn as she bowled over more and more of the WEE goons. The Tengu then drew its wings up, crossing them, and brought them down in a viscious X. Ichiro brought both his hand scything upward. His chi blades pushed the crossed attack upwards and the main building, five stories of a thousand years of history, was neatly sliced. Ichiro leapt forward as the building behind him collapsed.

Just like the last time Yono appeared, he thought, as he charged the Tengu. The dark, feathered figure flicked its wings. Ichiro juked aside as sharp, dark shapes speared past, the calamus, the stems of the feathers, driving into the ground behind him. A few of the enemy who had fanned out were struck and dropped to the ground in agony, the vanes of the projectiles darkening with blood. The Tengu flicked again and again. Each time, Ichiro escaped, dodging as he closed. The Tengu suddenly flicked it's right wing. Ichiro turned in horror as a chi blade flew towards Carolyn. He could see his beloved turn as she became aware of the threat. The men who accidentally stepped into the blade's path were immediately cut down. Carolyn threw herself backward, spinning slowly, slowly, too slowly. The blade caught her, just above her left elbow. Her mouth opened to scream in shock and pain as blood fountained forth from her stump.

Suddenly, Ron appeared, the lotus blade in his hand; Keiko rushed up to catch the crumpling Carolyn.

Ichiro lost his composure.

He turned and launched himself at the Tengu, his fists and feet blurring as he launched attack after attack. He threw a three fist combination then spun from a leg sweep to a flying triple kick. The Tengu slid away, using it's wings to deflect his fists, then leaped back to avoid the sweep, ducking under his furious onslaught. As he landed past the dark monstrosity, he whirled with a series of alternating punches, slide stepping forward to keep the Tengu's sweeping attacks at bay. The humanoid bird slipped carefully around his attacks, moving with a fluidity that shocked him.

It shocked him because he recognized the style.

He knew he had to either keep the creature occupied or remove the threat from the others. A dark wing swept in short, moving with e quick ferocity that he was unprepared for, but he somersaulted back just in time. Four parallel lines cut into the back of his scalp as the wing feathers sliced through where he had just been. He kicked out with a foot as he came out of his roll, but the other wing was there, blocking and turning away the force of his blow. He coated his hands with chi, blinding in the darkening sky, swinging them with deadly precision in a furious series of strikes. The Tengu responded, using its wings, hard as diamonds, to block, parry and riposte. But as Ichiro fought the previous shock settled into a dread deep down in his core. He leapt away, jumping to the top of the wall by the gate. The Tengu followed, leading with some thrown feathers and a blinding, sweeping set of attacks with its wings. One attack came so close to hitting him, it lopped off his warrior's club. He fended off another sweeping attack that tore the sleeve of his robes before fast-stepping twenty yards to the nearest guard tower further down the wall. The feathered warrior responded, leaping into the air with a snapping blast of its wings, soaring high above, pursuing him with vengeance. Ichiro juked left and right, dodging the feathers that rained down, shattered the clay tiles beneath his feet, hopping the thirty yard distance to the second roof of the fallen main building.

Ichiro could now see that the black malevolence that he felt in the Tengu's aura was emanating from the back of the silver collar. It was coated with the yellowish-orange power that was the trademark of Yono the Destroyer's spirit. Below, Ron and Hirotaka continued their desperate fight while Keiko dragged Carolyn to the side and guarded her. She had applied a tourniquet made from her cloth belt to the bleeding stump of Carolyn's arm.

Ichiro knew what he must do. The Tengu was too quick for him to best, he knew that. He moved with as much precision as he dared, waiting for the right moment. And when he did, he exposed his chest.

In an instant, with a raucous cry of triumph, the Tengu's left hand plunged into Ichiro's breast. The pain nearly spasmed him out of his resolve, but he brought both his hands together and shattered the collar. The orange yellow power dissipated. His hand found the sickening eye embedded in the back of the Tengu's neck and his hands flared with a brilliance that cast sharp shadows from the combatants below. The eye bolted out of the neck, writhing sickeningly even as it withered and fell to dust, blown away by the furious wind.

The blankness that covered the Tengu's eyes faded into a deep dark horror of realization. The claw removed itself from Ichiro, who toppled forward into the Tengu's arms. He raised a trembling hand even as he felt life life slipping away. He fumbled with the mask, pulling it up and away with an arm that felt as heavy as lead to reveal a familiar, beautiful, terrified face. He put his hand against the Tengu's exposed cheek.

"My final gift, my... beloved... Tessen...," he gasped out and then fell limp. As his mind began to fade, he could hear the desperate cries of "Ojii-san! Ojii-san!"

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Hirotaka was bleeding from so many places, his face was awash with blood. His ribs ached from several punches and his right leg was numb. But as he struck down another of the WEE goons, a blood curdling scream sounded above him.

He turned to see Dai Sensei, his lifeless body in the hands of the Tengu. The mask had been pulled off and the cloth covering the mouth pulled down. He gaped at the pale, tear streaked face that it revealed.

A small body crashed into him and he stumbled out of his shock.

"What the hell are you doing," cried Keiko as she fended off several goons, hard blocking to keep her position. Ron arrived, the Lotus blade flashing in bright arcs, his face a rictus as he hammered the flat of the blade into the milling bodies around them.

Just as suddenly, the Tengu swayed and fell to the ground in a heap, Dai Sensei's body still in it's arms. Several of the WEE goons broke off the attack, five stooping to pick up the fallen Tengu and Dai Sensei's body. The rest turned as the bodies were lifted.

"Don't let them take him!" Hirotaka shouted.

What followed was a nightmarish running battle as the WEE agents fell back to their waiting hoverpod. The five goons ran swiftly while the rest attempted to hold off the three youths who pursued as if they were possessed. Ron finally burst through with a three strike combination that felled a goon with each stroke and even as the goons loaded the Tengu into the hoverpod, seized the arm of Dai Sensei's body. The body fell to the ground. The goons took one look at the blond's face and fled into the pod, the hatch crashing shut.

Hirotaka howled as he threw himself at the closed door as the assault hoverpod lifted away from the ground. He hammered at the metal, scrabbled for a handhold until a hand grasped his shoulder and hauled him from the machine as it lifted away and rifle muzzles appeared in the gun ports. Hirotaka jumped under the pod as it slewed around and the thrusters fired in a deep rumbling roar that faded as the craft streaked away.

"We need to call Global Justice!" shouted a voice beside the grief stricken man. Hirotaka turned on the blond who spoke, his mind whirling, unable to focus. His anger swelled as he stared at the American beside him. Before he could leap on Ron, Keiko slid in front of him.

"Hirotaka-san, please! Carolyn-sama needs medical attention and Global Justice will be able to track the helicopter!" Hirotaka clenched his jaw and stuffed down his anger. Ron turned to the body of Dai Sensei, his face unreadably serious; it was so unlike the Stoppale-san he knew that it jolted the ninja out of his self-absorption. Ron looked up at him, his mouth a trembling, grim line.

Wordlessly, they folded Dai Sensei's limp arms across his chest and hefted the tiny body in their arms. Had Dai Sesei always weighed so little, Hirotaka wondered to himself, his mind and heart numb, trudging back to the ruins of Yamanouchi, with Keiko trailing behind them, tears streaming down her face. They reached the ruins of the main building, where Carolyn Possible was propped up against a large section of wall. They laid Dai Sensei near her, her eyes wide and frightened. She traced the the lines of her friend's face with trembling fingers, her best friend in all the world.

Dai Sensei had been the longest ruling Dai Sensei for centuries and had been the backbone, the core and the spirit of Yamanouchi for so long. And now, the school had lost its heart, its conscience and its future in a single hour. To force the heir apparent to kill her grandfather; it was the most heinous of crimes that could be perpetrated under the Code of the Lotus. Yori was now anathema, to be killed on sight by any and all ninja of Yamanouchi. His best friend would be hounded to the ends of the world by her own brethren, who should stop at nothing to exact revenge.

Hirotaka straightened, as he surveyed the rubble of his childhood home. Aside from his own parents who worked and lived in Tokyo, this had been his spiritual home, Dai Sensei his spiritual father. And now, it lay in smoking ruins, the wind whipping the fires higher, the dust from the collapse of the main grounds swirling into the dark evening air. Keiko's sobbing drew his attention; he watched, strangely detached, oblivious to the tears that ran down his own face, or the sobs of the blond boy beside him as he turned to Ron Stoppable, his heart in ashes.

"Come. We have work to do," he said as he led the way to the communications room.


	17. Chapter 17: The Ties that Bind

_Interlude_

_You know, duking out with Princess is such a thrill. We totally threw down at Brotherson's digs, and it felt so good to just let lose. She really knows her stuff, and sometimes, I get the feeling she knows mine. The scenery changes but the moves are the same. Better. Faster. I keep ramping up my game, and she follows right along._

_But when I pinned her to the card table, and I stared into her wide eyes, less than a foot away from my face,..._

_I couldn't do it._

_Fuck me, I just couldn't do it. Feeling her warm body beneath mine, her breath hot on my face, and that know-it-all smirk..._

_WHAT THE FUCK?_

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_It was like an out of body experience._

_She'd pinned me before, when we've fought, but there was a split second hesitation, before the scowl came back, her hands lit and burning. I let her hands go and they and crashed through the table beside my head. She had me dead in her sights, but it was the wood she smashed and not my face. She can split open metal, crack through concrete walls, but she had this look on her face... and all she did was tug at hands snapped by wood._

_I felt so energized by her. I could feel my heart pumping, my head soaring._

_But all I could think about was winning, all I could think about was Ron, standing there, dumbfounded, staring. So I slammed her off with a double kick and the moment..._

_the _opportunity_..._

_was gone.  
_  
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**  
Blood and Bondage**  
_Chapter Seventeen: The Ties that Bind  
by sweetPixiesmile_

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Vivian sighed and ground the heels of her hands into her sore and gritty eyes. She rubbed for a few more seconds, then stood, stretching as she put her hands on the small of her back and releasing an exhausted sigh. She stared out of Betty's office window at the wide green lawn of Global Justice's headquarters, noting the cars leaving. The sun was setting, leaving streaks of red tinged blue and white cloud across the late afternoon sky. In the distance, a flock of birds were flying towards the compound.

_Five o'clock already_, she thought, unconsciously pouting with a small moue. _The things I do for _love.

She stood behind Betty's desk, the armour reinforced standalone laptop sitting on the surface.

The blond scientist had been looking through Drakken's notes. Many of them were mad ramblings, nonsensical pseudo-hypotheses and fanciful applications. But from the morass of scattered thoughts, gleaming ideas intuitive and subconscious, would build some incomprehensible momentum, and when a critical mass was achieved between ideological garbage and practical pseudo science, brilliance would rise out of the mess. She shook her head. The man was certifiable. Yet there really was a rough hewn method to his madness. It wasn't scientific methodology or a specified process of logical argument. It was almost a matter of will. As if Drakken pitted his mind not against those that had laughed at him, belittled him and ignored him, but against the very fabric, the essence and laws of science as others understood the universe. It was a rather awe-inspiring thing, she silently admitted, to see when his attempts to bend or break the rules actually worked, turning decades, centuries of accepted scientific theory on its head. The results were typically unexpected, but perhaps his madness was part and parcel to his genius?

Vivian walked over to stand by the couch, then turned to regard Betty's chair. She just could not understand how Betty could sit in that monstrosity for hours on end. Sure, it was supposed to be good for posture, and certainly, Betty had good- no, _great_ posture, but that thing was just so _damnably_ uncomfortable.

A sudden, sodden thud made her jump and she turned toward the windows.

A bird had run into the glass with such force that a splatter of blood and exposed flesh seemed to have glued it to the security pane. Vivian grimaced at the sight, wondering if she should call the cleaning service, when she realized that the thick, deep red liquid was also dripping down from above where the pane was embedded in the concrete and titanium casement. With sick fascination, she watched as several more birds drove themselves against the pane and hung there in their agony.

Vivian considered herself and intelligent woman. But having a whole flock of birds committing suicide by splattering their bodies against the plate glass of the office was too much, and she ran to the phone, her terrified conscious mind attempting to affect a solution to such a macabre occurrence.

As she reached for the phone on Betty's desk, the bloody, feathered bodies exploded.

The next thing she was aware of was lying on her stomach, on the ground, her consciousness fading in slowly. First light, then muffled sound, and finally, comprehension. She fought against the sway of the floor, her mind grasping at the whirling currents of thought.

_Betty. Gotta remember... stay awake!_

"Told you we should have waited, Orange. She bounced off the back wall. You're lucky you didn't splatter her brains all over it."

"If we'd waited, we would've missed our window and you know what happens when we're late..." Vivian could see the soles of dark blue boots. She felt like throwing up and the room wobbled precariously along with her stomach. "Well, pick her up, Blue," an exasperated voice called, "let's get going."

She could hear a ringing in her ears. She wasn't sure if it was the alarm, or her head. Maybe both. A blank darkness edged her thoughts, preventing logical thought and coordinated movement. She couldn't make her body respond in the way she wanted. A groan escaped her lips.

Rough hands pushed her over onto her back and hard fingers probed her neck, searching for a pulse. The rough treatment was too much.

There was a thick splattering sound as her lunch fell onto the blue boots of the man who knelt over her before he could jump back.

"Aw man," the blue suited man complained. "I just buffed them too!" There was a grunt of frustration before her view was obscured by another pair of boots, this time a deep, burnt orange.

"Beddy bye, blondie, " a woman's voice spoke into her ear. "Can't have you causing trouble during the flight." There was a jolting crackle in her back and she sank into the reaching dark.

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She paused in the act of putting on her jacket and turned at the ominous roar, her coffee mug rattling against her desktop. Her feet was fleet with fear. Her heart hammered against the cage of her chest, the rabbiting pulse deafening her to everything else. Interns, doctors, nurses, attendants, visitors and patients were nothing but a confused cacophony of noise as she sprinted past, the garrulous queries rendered inconsequential in the face of her dawning horror.

When she reached the seventh floor, her greatest fears were realized.

Smoke billowed everywhere. Nurses stumbled about in a surreal attempt to calm and usher panicked patients to their designated safe areas. She sprinted down the corridor.

"Doctor!" called one of the nurses as she sped past the station, "Wait!" She could already see the debris in the clearing dust and carnage even before she rounded the corner. She paused at the horrific sight. Two Global Justice troopers lay, silent and still among the smoking ruins of the secured door that had been blown open so hard the door and the foot of secured jamb had embedded itself into the wall across from where it had once stood.

"No... no!" she whispered desperately to herself as she crept closer in the sudden, muffling silence. She skidded to a stop by the two troopers, gaping at what she saw.

There was a rough rectangular view of the hospital grounds where the outside wall of the room used to be. The entire external wall had been explosively removed.

Dim figures moved about, distorted and grotesquely elongated by the setting sun, back lit against the dust; scorch marks at the wall seam was testament to the blast.

"Hello? Tommy?" she called out the name of one of the nurses she hadn't seen at the nurses' station, waving her hand in a futile attempt at clearing the haze, coughing as she breathed in too deeply, seeing the shapes of figures kneeling. The heads turned her way as she stepped into the remains of the room. "Is everything alright?"

"I just love it when this come together for us," a voice said behind her, smugly. Anne spun around to see a large, green suited man. "Especially when it's in _my_ favour." Anne backpedalled quickly, only to stumble up against another person. Hands seized her, while another clapped onto her mouth.

"No heroics or hysterics, Doctor," the green agent said, advancing ominously. "We were only here for one, but two is even better." His grin made Anne want to shiver in terror. They marched her smartly through the debris to the edge of the destroyed wall. Before her, she could see another large, blue-suited man carrying her husband, unconscious and dripping blood from one side across a narrow looking gangplank, but her fear stopped her from calling out. Anne balked, looking down. The debris from the wall had crushed an ambulance seven floors below. Small, indistinct figures were looking up, pointing. She was roughly propelled across the plank after her initial lapse and was shoved onto the gunmetal grey floor. They crammed her into a small compartment, next to the unconscious James, blood trickling from a gash on the right side of his skull.

"No noise, or we gag you. Got it?" the man said, pointing his finger right under her nose. She bit her lips and nodded, pulling James onto her lap and hugging him close.

Another man came around and secured her hands to a pipe with a black plastic zip-tie.

"Hold 'im," the second man grunted as he pulled James' hand behind him. Anne complied and James' wrists were zip-tied behind his back.

The two men gave each other a high five.

"Two birds, man!"

"I'll bet those blues are gonna eat their hearts out. Gonna get schooled, green style." She could hear their footsteps wander away, their voices trailing behind them, as the door closed.

"That only leaves Orange. _That_ girl is batshit crazy."

"She'll get some Blue lovin' too..."

She could feel the grudging respect in their voices. The darkness slammed shut with the door. Anne's heart plummeted, she felt the hoverpod lift away and an electric hum fill the air.

_Kimmie, help us._

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Kim was not sure where she was, but wherever it was, it felt good. It felt really, really good. Her body was flowing to a broken rhythm that was synchronized, moving, revolving, clashing against the other, counterpoint rhythm. Flashing claws crashed against black gloved hands. She ducked under a high kick then dove for a tackle as Shego's other leg came around for a low sweep. The green tinted woman neatly leaned back, nearly lying down as Kim flew over, who hit the ground and rolled in a safe fall, coming up in her ready stance. Shego was already on her.

She stepped in close. Not one to back down, the green and black clad woman sprang forward and they traded a series of deadly moves, elbows, wrists, holds and strikes. Each grapple was broken, each strike was blocked or redirected, each counter, countered again and again. Eyes, throat, groin. They stood, deep within each other's zones, their eyes glowing with surreal pleasure. They whirled around each other, shifting their balance and centre of gravity as they circled. They were too fast for each other, until Shego surprised Kim with a knee that she slipped around, her hands snaking forward for a hold, only to suddenly find herself being pushed back; the woman had planted her foot behind her when Kim has slid past the surprise knee and swept her upper body over the planted leg. Kim followed the momentum, her legs rising, her feet whipping over in a split legged one-two combination as she planted her hands on the ground. Shego leaned away, the soles brushing her hair and restrained herself from charging the red-head's back, also avoiding the elbow that came roaring up to cover her retreat.

Shego actually stepped back a few more paces, maintaining a non-engaged space as Kim slid forward. When she hesitated, the ex-thief lowered her hands. Kim came out of her stance.

"Shego, what...?" she panted out, suddenly feeling the fatigue as the heat of battle began to fade.

"I think your nerdlinger's calling you," the woman said, pointing at her wrist. Kim raised it , swiping carelessly at the sweat-plastered bangs from her eyes. The wrist kimmunicator was flashing and beeping, indicating a message.

"Oh... yeah," Kim laughed, hoping the comet powered beauty would not notice her blush of embarrassment. She touched the answer button, momentarily distracted as Shego turned away and bent over, sweat dripping, hands on her knees.

"Hey Kim," Wade's voice snapped Kim out of her wolf's grin. The boy's face was pale, his lips a strange purplish brown. He looked exhausted. "Doctor Director just called... you need to go home, right now. The Global Justice SHOCK pod should be outside in about thirty minutes at your designated pick-up point. Message repeats. Hey Kim-" The kimmunicator beeped as Kim pressed the button again, a frown of worry on her face.

"What's up, Princess?" Shego followed as she hurried to their drop packs.

"We need to get out of here, Dr. Director wants us back ASAP." They scooped up the backpacks and Kim turned to Shego. She pressed a few buttons on her kimmunicator and a small holographic map appeared, a green marker flashing inside the volcanic island and a red x marking a flat shelf of rock near the surf outside. "Hey, is there a faster way to get here?" she asked, pointing at their destination.

The woman studied it for a moment.

"Yeah, there is. C'mon. Dr. D built escape tunnels all over the base." It was now the woman's turn to lead. She walked over to a rock wall and flipped back a false panel to reveal a red crash button. "Hope it still works," Kim heard her mutter, before slamming her hand on the button. There was a few clanks and then a screeching groan. A section of the cavern wall shuddered, but nothing happened. The woman rolled her eyes.

"Cheap bastard," she muttered, but her eyes slid sideways with guilt. Kim walked over to the trembling wall. She looked it over, kneeling down and them standing on tip toe. She then spun and kicked it, striking the fake wall with a reverberating gong. With a metallic squeal, the wall shuddered, then slowly slid open, revealing a dark lava tube.

"It's all cake," she grinned back at the gaping ex-villainess. Shego shut her mouth with a snap and returned the grin.

"Let's haul ass, cupcake," she shouted as she sprinted past the surprised Kim. "Last one to the LZ is a loser!" In the dark, her hands glowed softly to light the way.

"Hey!" She cried out at the woman's retreating back, but her eyes slid lower. A smile lit her lips as she gave chase into the darkened tunnel, Shego's plasma lit hands fading from view. The lava tube wound back and forth several times. Kim was able to close the distance to a few paces, but as they felt the salty tang of the sea air filtering into the makeshift escape tunnel, Shego ran harder and Kim couldn't get any closer. One more turn, and they could both see a sharp, jagged sliver of light at the end. To Kim's surprise, Shego began to pull away, but with a burst of speed, Kim vaulted over a series of crags and boulders that Shego had bypassed for a clearer path, and with a leaping, twisting half pike, flew over the comet powered ex-villainess with a smirk and landed on the broad plateau just a step ahead. Just before being bulldozed into by the charging woman. Hands immediately wrapped around her as she fell. With a grunt, Shego had stopped and seized her, catching her before she sprawled onto the sharp edges of the flat lava rock slab.

Kim stared into bright green eyes. They were wide with surprise and concern, and the black and mint green lips were parted, gasping from the sprint. Lips so tantalizingly close. So close she just stared, then looked up into those glowing eyes, her hand lifting to cup a smooth, green cheek. She froze, realizing the breeze that blew strands of the woman's black hair wasn't natural. Kim turned her head to see the surprised look of two Global Justice Pilots.

Shego stood up and immediately released Kim, her cheeks slightly a darker green, even as Kim brushed herself off, her face flaming red, then waved the green woman to the hoverpod. Shego didn't argue, but shouldered her drop pack and gave Kim a loud, playful slap on her bottom, eliciting a satisfying "eeep!" from the red-head as she passed into the Operations section. Twelve pairs of eyes looked up at her, then back at their screens. This repeated when Kim entered, fully intent on tearing into the woman until she saw the operations staff staring. Shego arched an eyebrow as they shared a glance, then moved aside as the navigator came down the gangway from the elevated cockpit and handed them both ear-muff headsets.

"This way, Miss Possible!" he called out as the pod turbines whined, powering up and lifting away.

Kim gripped her hands together anxiously, her mind racing as she sat, strapped into Global Justice's Stealth Hypersonic Operations Command Carrier. Her face was tight with worry. Across from her, on the other side of the fuselage, eyes glowing in the dim running lights of the troop compartment, a dark haired woman watched the slowly working hands. Shego thumbed her comset for private.

"Relax, Pumpkin. Won't help you to get all worked up and get back all tired." Kim lifted her head at the woman's words.

"I can't help it. Not knowing whats going on is worse than knowing that something is going on."

"You're gonna be no fun," Shego groaned. "Well, it could be worse."

"How so?" Kim snapped sharply, her anxiety fuelling her irritation.

"This ride could be longer." Shego looked about spying at least two cameras, suppressing a sigh. "Hey Pumpkin, do you remember when we were fighting over the Pan Dimensional Vortex Inducer?"

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"This is outrageous, Doctor Director! You mean to tell us that a top secret, heavily defended and hardened facility, one that's taken trillions of dollars to build is now in shambles, and we have no way to track or trace the perpetrators?"

Doctor Elisabet Director sat in a deep blue dress uniform, complete with a golden braid that looped under her right side, in a brightly lit room. To her left sat her two aides. She clasped her hands calmly on the small desk. Arrayed before her were the five members of the Global Justice oversight committee, drawn from the permanent members of the United Nations Security Council.

"We have traced the signals from the time of the first strike. The heat blooms appeared to the east, which is meaningless in a well planned tactical assault. We were able to prevent the nuclear reactor from being breached, and with the exception of the garrison and the some of the prisoners, we were able to neutralize the intruders and secure the area. However, I would like to focus on my evaluation that this is part of a larger scale, longer term plot. We are working around the clock to-"

"May I remind you, Doctor, what Global Justice stands for? We work within the bounds of local law enforcement. We provide support!"

"This jurisdiction was clearly Global Justice's as it was an assault on our facility-"

"The US government is, right now, demanding how we can field such ordinance and have had such ordinance in place on their soil!"

"My predecessor-"

"Your predecessor was a paranoid egomaniac. When you replaced him, you promised that Global Justice would operate strictly within it's mandate, however, that does not seem to be the case!"

"Doctor, please step outside so that we can deliberate how to handle this... situation."

"For the record, I would like to say that all the agents in the field have preformed above and beyond the call of duty."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" the female agent asked as he followed Betty outside into the well polished floor of the United Nations offices. Betty closed her eyes, but when she turned around her features were calm and collected. The agent removed her cap and ran a hand through her short blond hair.

"Granted."

"What is going on in there, sir? They're like a pack of sharks!"

"And they smell blood?" Betty nodded. "Will, would you get me some coffee? The Sumatran, not the Ethiopian blend."

"Sir," Will replied, saluting and running off.

"I wish he wouldn't do that," Betty murmured to herself, then turned back to the short, blond agent. "Agent Case, you've only been with Global Justice for eight months?"

"Yes sir."

"The previous Head of Global Justice was not a well liked man. He got results, but, sometimes, his methods were too unorthodox. After a particular incident, he was not only fired, but had criminal charges brought against him. Ever since then, the confidence in Global Justice has been shaken."

"But we've been doing our job, right? Uh... sir?"

"We certainly have," Betty replied wryly. "But we don't do high profile arrests or assaults. We work mostly behind the scenes; in fact, our mandate actually gives us more latitude as long as we stay out of sight. Most countries appreciate taking the credit for our hard work, and is one of the reasons we're a bit of a UN hot potato. That's the way we operate and that's how the UN likes it."

"Sir?"

"Well, our hand's been forced and we've revealed that we carry enough ordinance to level a small African nation, and enough high tech gadgetry to make the US military look like they're playing with tinker toys. It comes from researching and stockpiling all the crazy tech villains' confiscated equipment and projects. And with the shadow of the previous Director hanging over Global Justice, and with no serious public victories to point to... that causes an issue with the Security Council. We have a very substantial, unsubstantiated value to large scale criminal justice." They could hear heavy footsteps rushing towards them and Betty turned to see who it might be.

"Then why are they so, you know, like that, sir?" Agent Case wondered aloud.

"Memories of my predecessor. He nearly built himself a private army before he was taken down and taken in."

Will Du came sprinting around the corner a mobile in his hand.

"Sir," he gasped as he stumbled to a stop. "I've got a sitrep..." he held the phone up to her.

Betty took the phone.

"Report." Agent Case watched as her tanned face turned pale. The longer Dr. Director listened, the more grey she became. "Have Asia HQ send a team to the mountains to support them. Contact Team Possible's handler; have Mr. Load reel in his team. We've got a Gambit scenario happening. Call in a Triple Alpha Threat Alert to the Pacific Rim." Betty turned and was about to walk away when the doors opened.

"What is the meaning of this?" cried out the oversight chairman. Betty pivoted on her heel to face the man.

"We've got a situation that's come up that requires my full attention."

"I don't think you understand _your_ situation, Director. We were willing to be lenient on you-"

"My apologies your, excellence, but I must go. Agent Du, Agent Case. We're oscar mike."

"I'm warning you, Doctor Elisabet Margery Director! If you walk away now, it won't just be a period of probation or suspension. You _can_ be replaced!"

"The oversight committee would be within its rights and duties to ensure Global Justice is being headed by the proper individual. Just as I am required to see that all threats under Global Justice jurisdiction are covered. So that you know from me rather than from GNN, the Global Justice headquarters has been attacked by explosives stuffed pigeons. Good day, sir."

"You're finished! Your watch is done! There will be an announcement in three days time, and you will be replaced!" The sound of their heels were drowned out by his roar.

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It was so difficult to keep what she was feeling repressed, but sprinting down the dark corridors helped. The grey and purple suited men stepped out of her way she she barrelled through. She reached the long darkened corridor but the two men who guarded the entrance to the office stepped into her way.

"Sorry, Miss Flanner, but the boss isn't in," one of them said. She glanced at his badge.

"I've got news, important news, Tri-Lepta! Where is he?"

"He's in conference... uh... somewhere," the guard who had stopped her trailed off.

"He'll want to know, to hear this. You do know who I am, don't you?" Justine's manic eyes lit on the second man, who gulped at the ferocity of her glare.

"Look, Miss Flanner, we're not... I mean, you don't know what happens to people who... uh..." the two mean glanced at each other. The older one sighed.

"Miss Flanner, the boss is debriefing in the hoverpod bay. A couple of the agents have returned and they're probably in the..." He trailed off as the young blond sprinted away.

"She's got it bad, that one," he shook his head.

"She's not half-bad. I mean, in a dorky-geeky thin kinda way," the other answered, his eyes watching the departing scientist. Her clothing was rumpled and only slightly soiled.

"Would you help me out and just keep it _in your pants_?" the first guard said, punctuating his words with a slap on the shoulder at the younger agent's comment.

"But I haven't been laid in months!"

"You cross Gemini, and you won't need to get laid."

"... true that."

"So no more comments about Gemini's braincake, alright? My contract's almost up, and I want to be home for Labour Day."

"Yeah, yeah. Sheesh."

Justine flew down the narrow passageway and cut across a wide cargo corridor. She followed the wide painted lines down toward a large set of sliding pressure doors. She paused at the entrance, her eyes adjusting to the darkness inside. She could see several people, some in orange, some in green, blue and even purple. She hesitated, her elation balking at this large gathering of scary looking individuals. But the sound of his voice cut through her fear. She squared her shoulders and walked towards the small pool of light that gleamed against the fuselage of three large assault pods. As she neared, she shivered, hearing his soft voice again, the words distinct from the distance.

"And the collar won't take again?"

"N-n-no, s-s-sir... even the larva is being rejected forcibly."

"Hmmm. Interesting. We should keep her handy, even thought we're pulling ahead of schedule. Put her on The Island."

"You... you mean-"

"Dismissed. Also, see to our new guests, and that they are properly installed and equiped for their work. All their research will culminate in the next few days, I think. Do not forget to feed them, Tri-Delta."

"Yessir! Nossir! Right away, sir!" A man in grey and purple extricated himself from the ring of coloured agents, guiding a hover gurney with practised ease. There was a dark, rough shaped bundle of what seemed like feathers bound up with wide leather straps. Beside it sat a man and two women. Justine squinted in the darkness, trying to make out the faces. For some odd reason, two of them felt familiar...

"Ah, my dear..." Her heart jumped into her throat and she slowly turned, like a child caught in a lie. She saw him and her face flushed. "What brings you out of the laboratory? Unless...?"

"I wanted you to be the first to know! I solved it... solved it!" The coloured agents turned their heads away from his flashing grin. All the earlier excitement came flooding back to her and she threw her arms wide. "Not only that, I've got it hooked up and running!"

"Then... you are able to tap into the powercore," the silhouette breathed in sudden feral anticipation.

"It'll take a few days to install the core into the Leviathan, but it's a near perpetual wave form. It'll last practically for ever!"

"Good... good, my dear." the figure stepped forward and took her arm. Her face pinked in embarrassment as he led her away. "You've done exceedingly well, my dear, I'm proud of you." He turned and led her back through the cargo run. "Now tell me about it."

"It's so exciting! The crystal harmonic resonates at a specific frequency of energy, and through a complex refraction matrix..."

All the quantum physics couldn't still the hammering of her heart or the flush of pleasure on her cheeks, or the shudders of fear from the agents behind them.

* KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP *

Shego kept up the distracting dialogue, all the while wondering why she bothered, and when someone's heartache had begun to matter to her. She'd glanced out the window and noted the flashing lights and the large hole on the side of the hospital, ten stories up.

"I think me fighting off the alligators that you left me in Florida is the all time winner."

"No way! How about a pack of ninja monkeys in zero gravity, while looking for the chosen monkey? Tops your alligators."

"Or you know what's really fuckin' weird? Mr. Sit Down."

"Who?"

"You _don't _wanna know. But there's a reason why the kids never get a look at his face. That was crazy, scary shit."

They landed right on the Middleton General helipad, waved in by an agent in a Global Justice blue jumpsuit. The sun was starting to set, the sky darkenning through the spectrum of blues and purples, the sun, swollen and orange. Several troopers were standing in groups of three around the helipad. Dr. Drector waited patiently at the edge, but began walking before the SHOCC pod touched down on the tarmac.

"Whoa, Bets, you look like shit warmed over," Shego smirked, calling out as they disembarked from the hoverpod. Betty glanced at Shego, and grimaced at the comet-powered woman's serious eyes. Kim came bounding over as Doctor Director and Will Du walked up. A niggling anxiety began to resurface as she looked the head of Global Justice. Her face was pale and drawn, her lips ashen.

"Ms. Possible... Kimberly, I need to speak to you. Over here if you please." A tremor of worry began to bloom into an ominous dread as she followed the head of Global Justice to the edge of the helipad, away from the others. There was a flurry of footsteps behind her and a sudden, jarring pain cracked against her head. She stumbled, her vision flashing and blurring.

"...the fuck were you? Huh?" she found herself turned about, her hands up in ready position; it was an unconscious reaction. "You... stupid,... It's all your fault!"

"...Tim?" she shook her head, gazing in disbelief through her tearing eyes at the tall lean boy who was her brother, one of her very own tweebs. He'd run up an... _hit_ her. Kim staggered, confused. She just couldn't understand what was happening. And now, he was lying on the hard helipad surface, Shego's knee in the small of his back. The woman had his arm twisted straight by the flesh of his hand, the other hand locking down the shoulder. Will Du had stepped forward and several of the Global Justice troopers were standing at the ready nearby, uncertain of the scenario.

"They took them! Right from under the noses of Global Justice and your little friend Wade!" Tears were running down his face. Jim was there too, a steadying hand on Kim's elbow.

"What the hell are you doing, Tim?" Jim's scornful reply only deepened his twin's glare. "Kim's not to blame, there's nothing she could have done even if she was here!"

"What the fuck, you gimp? She fucking Kim Possible, isn't she? The girl who can do anything!"

"Alright, buddy-boy, time for you to go cool off," Shego said grimly as she hefted the tall boy to his feet, his arm now bent almost vertical. She pushed him roughly into Will's arms, who deftly caught him and ushered him away in a restraining hold. Tim struggled, trying to twist out from the agent's firm grip.

"Dammit, stop!" Will ignored Tim as he shoved the furious teen into the arms of waiting troopers.

"Cool him off," he said grimly, before walking back.

"If anything happens to mom and dad, it's all your goddamn fault!" Tim shrieked as the troopers wrestled him away.

"Kim, are you alright?" Kim shook her head, the stars from Tim's blow fading quickly.

"Yeah. Jim, what's going on?" Jim looked away, his face contorted and red.

"Kimberly," Betty stepped in deftly. "You parents have been kidnapped. Mr. Load is currently attempting to discover their whereabouts, but we've only been able to track their GPS chips up to the Pacific shore."

"No... no...!" Kim stumbled back slightly and swayed, her hand up to her mouth to hold the terror from spilling out. Shego immediately appeared by her side, the woman's arms around her shoulders.

"Get a grip Kimmie. Stay focused. Just like you told me." Kim leaned into the woman's warmth for a moment, then broke away, staggering a few paces as a familiar beeping chime. Her hand fumbled for her kimmunicator.

"Kim," said a voice, familiar, but uncharacteristically serious. Kim's face brightened as she whipped up her wrist device, missing the flash of pain, disappointment and jealousy flicker through Shego's face. A familiar blond and freckled face stared sombrely out from the tiny screen.

"Ron! Ron, thank god... you're okay!"

Shego turned to Betty, and was about to turn away but turned back. She walked over to the head of Global Justice. The woman gave her a long hard stare as she stopped in front of her.

"Not really, Kim. They took Yori. They... they... I heard about your mom and dad. Don't worry KP, we'll find them. Find them and get them back, safe and sound. And... I've got news. Maybe the only good news."

The challenge in the single chestnut eye was unmistakable. Shego looked solemnly into her eye, and slowly, deliberately, raised a hand and placed it on her padded shoulder. Betty's eye twitched and her full lips compressed into a grim line. She shrugged Shego off and walked toward Kim.

"What?" Kim sat down heavily on the helipad, her legs finally giving way. It felt like her world was being smashed to bits by a sledgehammer. "Yori? Gone? Are you okay?"

"Not really,... they... they were trying to... to take Master Sensei's body..."

"Wait! His... his body? Oh... omigosh."

"Yeah," Ron repressed a shudder of grief, "he was trying to protect us. Yamanouchi's finished,... well, anyway..." Betty's hand clamped down on Kim's forearm and swivelled the kimmunicator to face her.

"When do you arrive, Mr. Stoppable?"

"D-d-doctor Director? Uh.. we'll be on a flight, maybe in a few hours...? I'll be arriving with Keiko and Hirotaka. They feel that you have the biggest chance of finding the bad guys who took Yori and m-murdered Sensei."

"Yes, I've already gotten the brief from the Asia Office."

"We'll see you then, okay, Ron?"

"Yeah. Yeah. It... it was good to hear your voice, KP."

"You... you too Ron." Kim pressed the button on her kimmunicator and it turned off with a beep. Kim slumped down. "Shego, I want..." A pair of warm hands laid themselves on her shoulders. She turned her head to find Shego's feral grin as she crouched behind her.

"Pumpkin, I've booked us some time at the GJ tactical centre. And Betty's agreed to assign an agent to train with us," her eyes flicked to Betty. "Right?"

"That's an excellent idea, Shego. I believe that will help. And you'll be on hand when we find your parents. And believe me, we will find them." Kim looked into Betty's eye and nodded.

"Okay," the red-head nodded soberly.

"C'mon Pumpkin, let's get some food into you and then we'll do some training, okay? If you wanna be part of the team that goes get your parents, you'll have to up your game to prove your spot..."

"Agent Case will take you to the training area when you're ready," Betty said before turning away, talking to Will.

The cafeteria food was strictly Bueno Nacho's gourmet line, the one sold at Olympic venues, with balanced high energy meals. Kim picked a grilled chicken and mango salad, while Shego had a spinach and mandarin orange salad with roasted pine nuts. Agent Case sat with them, only sipping tea.

"I already ate on the way over from New York," she explained.

Shego ate, Kim pushed her food about.

"Eat up, Kimmie. You'll need your strength to take on these bastards."

"I know! I know. But I'm just so worried..."

"Force some chicken down your gullet or we won't hit the training."

"She's right," Agent Case said. "Even if you feel like you're gonna puke, you need to keep up your intake."

"I... fine."

"So're we just gonna call you Agent Case, or what?" Shego asked, looking at the the diminutive blond Global Justice operative.

"Well... you can call me Anya," she said, pronouncing it Ahn-nya, " I mean since we'll be training together and all..."

"The junior gets to babysit the civvies?"

"No... Doctor Director said I could learn a thing or two from you and Ms. Possible."

"Kim," Kim said around a piece of chicken. "Just Kim."

"And you know who _I_ am," Shego smirked. "Just use that."

"Gotcha."

"Alright. Good. Couple more pieces, cupcake."

After watching the red-headed hero force half of the chicken into her stomach, Anya drove them to the training area. It was a large area that surrounded an abandoned town. Some sections were built like a combat zone, with burnt out husks of houses and large craters; another had a few tall buildings and paved streets that mimicked a metropolitan area.

"What's your training, Anya?"

"Tactical insertion. Stealth strikes. Krav Maga, Escrima and Kali. Marksman, pistols and rifles."

"You an instructor?"

"No." The absent _not yet_ was loud and clear.

"Alright. Since there's a few of us, let's play tag. No holds barred, no live ordinance. Everyone tagged also becomes it and joins the hunt. Only a solid hit counts as a tag. Let's do up-down to see who's first." The put their hands on their chests. "One, two, three!"

Kim was up, Anya and Shego, down.

"Don't forget to count to ten!" Shego called over her shoulder as she and Anya ran off in opposite directions.

"Yeah, yeah."

By the time Kim reached ten, there was nothing but silence.

Kim's face was uncharacteristically serious.

"Ready or not, here I come!" she called out as she slipped on her Spectrum glasses. She stared at the traces of plasma and the scent trail of Anya's perfume. She decided to test Anya, since she knew she could find Shego much more easily due to the woman's higher than normal body heat.

Kim followed the scent trail into the ruined part of town. It took her five minutes to find small blond woman, who had been hiding in the rafters of what seemed to be a church. Kim's grapple caught the her by surprise, but she managed to avoid the first strike. Still, it was only a few seconds before Kim scored a neat punch in her side.

It took the woman a moment to recover.

"You punch like a mac truck, Kim," Anya gasped out, still doubled over.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

"Even if it bruises, it'll heal faster than my pride," the woman laughed.

It took twenty minutes for them to even catch a glimpse of Shego. The thief had laid a large number of heat signatures, acting as red herrings. But Kim spotted a plasma trail when they found another heated length of rebar.

"She's on the water tower at five o'clock," Kim whispered to Anya. "I'll chase the next red herring, you circle around and see if you can flush her in my direction."

This time, the ruse worked. The ex-thief dodged Kim's hammer kick before flicking her hands apart, the familiar sound of her plasma igniting bringing a grin to the red-head's lips. Kim fought Shego to a stand-still and when Anya showed up, Shego amped up her strength to compensate. It still took them a good five minutes to score a hit on the comet-powered woman.

Two hours later, Anya, Kim and Shego were lying on the grass staring up at the stars.

"You guys are incredible," Anya panted.

"You're not so bad yourself," Kim replied.

"I've been a scrapper since I was, like, fifteen," the agent said in disbelief "but you guys are like in a different class. Reading, anticipation, and the speed!"

"Don't sweat it, blondie. You adapt well, but Kim and I, we've been fighting like since forever."

"I was already doing kung-fu, karate, akido, wu ching and tai chi when I was seven," Kim added.

"And I grew up with Shaolin."

"Yeah? You never told me that," Kim sat up, exclaiming in surprise. "Is that why you like the classical styles so much?" Shego looked away in embarrassment.

"Yeah... well,... I don't talk about family much."

They lay there silently for a while before Anya stood up, brushing the grass from her jumpsuit.

"Well, I better get you guys home," Anya sighed, "and I have reports to fill out."

Shego got out with Kim when they stopped at her house.

"Tomorrow, at eight, alright?"

"Alright. See you then, girls!" They watched Anya pull away in her small green two door hatchback. Kim started walking to the door, but then stopped. Shego watched her with glowing eyes.

"Shego... uh... I-I-I..." the girl stammered.

"Hey, Princess, mind if I stay over? I mean, I don't really have anywhere to go or anything."

"Yeah, sure," Kim replied slowly. The looked over her shoulder. "C'mon."

When Kim saw the empty living room and kitchen, she nearly broke down and cried right then and there. Shego took a look at the girl's face and led her upstairs. Kim was near catatonic with worry. Shego brought the heroine to Kim's loft bedroom and sat her on the queen sized bed.

"C'mon Pumpkin, take off your clothes. I'll draw you a bath." When Shego came back from filling the tub, Kim was rocking back and forth, silent tears streaming down her face. Her face furroughed from an old, old memory, and then comet-powered villainess sat beside the distraught girl, and wrapped her arms around the teen.

"Shhhh-shhh-shh," she shushed the girl, rocking her. "It's okay, it'll be okay. I'm here, Kim. I'm here. It'll be alright." Kim's arms snaked around her waist. She cried for a while, her arms tight around the ex-villainess.

"It's all my fault, Sh-sh-shego," Kim sobbed.

"Not it's not. No. But in our line of work... well, these things can happen."

"I should've been here! Should've..."

"You couldn't've done anything, Kim. You would've been at home, and by the time you got to the hospital, they would've still been long gone."

They sat silently for several more moments. Kim soaked up Shego's presence; Shego wondered what the hell she was doing with Kim, or why she cared. Eventually, Kim sat back up.

"I-I... I should wash."

"Let me know if you need a hand," Shego called to her. Kim paused, her hand lightly resting on the doorframe.

"I'll think about it," Kim murmured. Shego's cheeks flushed in response to Kim's low voice.

Kim had to drain and refill the tub, the water having cooled during her bout of crying. She took off her clothing and dropped them onto the floor in a pile. As she sat in the steaming hot water, she tried not to think about her parents. And Shego... she was being so nice.

Shego took a shower in the guest bathroom after Kim was done, taking her time to relax herself. She had freaked over Doctor D. And now Kim was in the same boat. But not the same boat. It was her parents, parents she loved and loved her in return. Not the same at all, but at least Shego could understand it.

Kim dressed for bed in a lavender spaghetti strap tank and plum men's briefs.

She opened the door at a knock and found Shego there, still in a towel, and her hair pinned up. She looks fabulous, Kim thought, then felt a flood fo guilt at the thought.

"Uh... can I borrow some clothes? And, I guess I'll be in the guest room."

"Yeah. Sure." Kim rummaged in a dresser and came up with dark green yoga pants and a black tank top. "Here."

"Thanks." Shego paused. "Are you okay, Kim?"

"Yeah... well, no... but I think I can keep it together."

"Alright. G'night, Princess."

"Goodnight."

Yet sleep was still elusive. She was trying not to think about her parents as hostages or kidnap victims. But the more she tried not to think about it, the more her mind wouldn't leave the thoughts alone.

Kim, for the first time, felt... _vulnerable_. Powerless. Exposed.

She'd always been able, capable of anything and everything. Her father's family motto had been burned into her from since she was small. Actually, it was the first thing he'd responded with the last time she felt this insecure. It was back on the first day of pre-kindergarten, when her mother and father had to reassure her when her separation anxiety had surfaced, and she was too nervous and worried to enter the school.

And now, her reputation, her hobby... had turned on her in the most vicious way, by coming home to her family. She felt dislocated, cast adrift. Ron was still hours away, and the tweebs... she supposed they were finding their own places of safety. And that just made her even more lonely.

As if of their own volition, she gathered her pillow into her arms, and left her room, hugging it tight. She stood before the guestroom door, which was slightly ajar.

"Shego..." she breathed softly, wondering what she was doing.

"Yeah," came the soft reply.

"Uh... I.. I kinna..." Kim couldn't continue.

"C'mon in, Pumpkin," came the same low reply.

Kim pushed open the door and found Shego sitting up, leaning into the corner at the head of the bed, her eyes glowing a soft, subdued green. Th woman twitched back the comforter and Kim climbed in. She felt all weird and disconnected, but the moment she lay down and the woman wrapped her arms around her, she felt... safe.

Within a few minutes, she was asleep.


	18. Chapter 18: Heart Be True

**_Interlude_**

_I've always wondered why Doctor D never thought that hairless pink thing was a threat._

_Maybe he just thinks it's beneath his dignity to recognize that little thing has more backbone, more brains than him. _

_Or maybe because it's pink. _

_Well, I've seen what that little guy can do, and it's impressive. His folder's even thicker than Stoppable's. The sidekick seems pretty attached to it, but I've seen Princess's face; she doesn't really like touching him, even after all these years. _

_Well, I'll keep my mouth shut. 'Cause, I don't want any dime-a-dozen thug or some inane discount trap offing Princess._

_I want that pleasure to be all mine._

* KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP *

_I remember the first time I met Rufus._

_He was this tiny little pink thing that could hardly see. Still a baby, his eyes barely open. He was bulgy, pink, veiny and all round kinna gorchy._

_But when he crawled into the electronic lock and opened the gate to Mr. Paisley's estate, Team Possible was born._

_And he's been invaluable ever since._

_I wonder why in all the times we're captured that villains never think to take him away? Maybe it's because they don't want to go searching through Ron's pockets? That can be a little iffy, I should know. But even Shego?_

_Maybe she just doesn't like touching long naked bald things._

* KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP *

**Chapter Eighteen: Heart Be True**

**Of Blood and Bondage**

_by sweetPixiesmile_

When the first thing you feel upon a rude awakening is your body flying through the air at a speed that could burst your organs and shatter your bones on impact, if you were normal, most people would scream.

If you were normal.

If you hadn't been subjected to radiation, chemicals and extreme temperatures, you would be dead.

If you hadn't grown up dodging stun sticks, killer tops of doom, green plasma and ninja monkeys.

If you hadn't been forced to learn as much as possible about computers, electronics, mechanical engineering and martial arts.

If you hadn't been infused by an obscure, mystical energy from a cult of simians.

But Rufus was not normal.

He hadn't been normal since he was first purchased from Smarty-Mart by his master. And it just so happened that his master's first request was to open an electronic lock... from the inside. He hadn't known what he was doing then and had simply gone the simple route and put his claws to effective use.

A lot had changed since then.

One moment, he was rolling comfortably in the warmth of his hideaway pocket in his master's ninja garb as it twisted and stretched. The next, he was airborne.

It was a testament to his training that when he found himself flying through the air after suddenly being snatched from his nice, safe hiding spot in his Master's ninja garb that he barely emitted a squeak. Even when he saw the fast approaching hover pod, he clamped his paws over his mouth, smothering a very non-masculine squeak. Rufus could barely see his landing spot; he would enter the pod just below the upper edge of the hoverpod hatch. He thanked the claws of his near blind ancestors that the end result of a quick trip through a genetic zipper resulted in improving his vision a thousand fold. He looked back to see his master's desperate face, each nodding as their eyes met while his master's rival seized the body of the old one, dragging it from the clutches their enemies before he turned to brace for impact.

He flew just over the heads of several helmeted goons who were scrambling into the hover pod, and-

_*Clunk*_

It took Rufus a moment to stir. His head hurt and his right hand felt numb. He pushed himself groggily into a sitting position shaking away the dizziness when a dark shadow loomed above him. He jerked aside, a heavy booted foot narrowly missing him. He scrambled this way and that, frantically avoiding several heavy dark grey combat boots as they tromped about. He cast about desperately, dodged another size twelve before spying an opening in a grill, some sort of wiring shunt. In a streak of pink and grey, Rufus scampered into his chosen hideaway.

He skidded to a stop and paused, turning to put a paw on the edge of the grill and watched the World-wide Evil Empire goons sort themselves out slowly. They swayed as Rufus felt the hoverpod lifting away and gave a slight squeak of consternation. The grey and purple suited men were ominously quiet, shuffling into a single line before exiting through an airtight hatch. The last two carried a limp, dark feathered body. A dark canvas bag was strapped over its head. He stiffened when he caught the whiff of a familiar scent and stared at the hooded body, as the goons roughly pushed it through the taking it into the back of the pod, the door shutting with a muffled clank. Rufus sighed and turned back to the dark, his eyes adjusting quickly. There wasn't much to the place; it smelled of several things, blood, oil and burnt metal. But most of all, there was a strong salt tang. Rufus poked his head out one more time.

It was the way the goons had stood about in the entryway, eerily silent, that had raised the hackles on the back of his neck. He resolved to stay out of sight.

Rufus sat down to consider his situation. His master had thrown him onto the pod, likely for one reason alone. Since the kidnapping of Yori, Ron had been morose and withdrawn. Rufus knew that he was not just worried about the kunoichi, but also ultimately disappointed in himself. They had been unable to trace the assault pods from the initial attack to their source, and none of the extensive network of Yamanouchi graduates had been able to locate Yori's whereabouts. Since the World-wide Evil Empire had been involved with Yori's kidnapping, it only stood to reason that Ron would want him to lend her his help. And thus, he now sat in a cabling shunt on a WEE assault pod with a crystal clear mission.

After a moment, Rufus decided to explore the hoverpod. He knew that in the world that his Master and his Master's Queen inhabited, information was a distinct advantage. Ron would want him to help discover the location of their lair, that much he was sure of, and he wasn't going to let his master down. He glanced down the thick cable bundle, held tight against the sidewall by a perforated metal grill, dusted himself off and followed it into the dark.

The shunt opened to a rectangular crawl space... no, it was ventilation. There was a faint flicker to the left, most likely fans. The vent travelled from the fans on further down the left extending past his right, presumably towards the cockpit. That would be the best place to find out the pod's destination, if he could remain hidden.

Rufus scurried towards the cockpit, pausing briefly at a sudden vertical rise. The air around him was constantly in motion, stirring his sensing whiskers. The ventilation was almost pitch black; Rufus was grateful for his ancestry that made him perfectly at home in near total darkness. The naked mole rat scampered up the wiring grill and followed what looked like the flight control bundle. Thank God he'd taken time to study hoverpod electricals! The vent suddenly flattened, the top and bottom pressing close, the wiring fanning into various drill holes. He crawled forward, seeing the ambient glow of a register set into the bottom of the vent. He dug is claws into the seams of the grill, sliding forward on his belly until his head was right above the register. Down below he could see the grey helmets of the two pilots. He craned his head and could barely see outside of the cockpit, the mountains of Yamanouchi giving way to the Kansai floodplains. He squirmed about for a moment longer before settling, unable to see any more without exposing himself.

The controls were different from Drakken and Shego's personal sized pods. Drakken's designs ran towards "mad scientist" sensibilities, with large analog knobs, dramatic levers and plenty of flashing lights. The panel was more sophisticated than Global Justice's designs, which favoured large graphic displays, analog switches, coupled with manual overrides placed at strategic points; it was something he remembered from schematics that Wade had once shown to him. Less elegant, but effective and practical; easy to repair in the field had been his opinion.

"Stealth ready for deployment," said the co-pilot. Rufus craned his head, seeing a flashing green light above the label "Optical Camouflage." Once the colloquially termed stealth cloak was engaged, they would be running in full stealth mode, invisible to nearly all detectable energy bandwidths.

"Deploy cloak." The grey suited goon on the right reached over and pressed the switch below the green light, which flickered to a dull red before turning from yellow to green.

"Cloak deployed... instruments register cloaking field stable."

"Good. Once we enter the dive zone, we can relax a bit." There was a pause before the co-pilot spoke.

"Uh... Commodore?"

Commodore? That was an unusual rank for a pilot.

"Yeah?"

"Did you see-"

"Yeah."

"I can't believe-"

"I know."

"D'you think-"

"No."

"Sir-"

"_No_. You ask too many questions that can get you disappeared. The boss pays well, but he also pays for absolute obedience and efficiency."

"Uh... I'll stop now."

"Good. That way we can both stay healthy."

Rufus looked at the display that looked like a directional compass with several rings around a double axis and read the numbers under the label "heading"; it read zero-eight-five, which meant they would soon be out over the ocean. He tried to recall the geography of the area; there were a few outlying islands with a few fishing villages, but nothing substantial close by. Soon, they would be over the ocean; could WEE be using an aircraft carrier? Perhaps that explained why the ninja network hadn't been able find a land base of operations. This particular hoverpod, however, used a miniature nuclear reactor, and could fly a fair distance... as far as South America, if necessary.

"Coming up on dive zone."

"Good. Chief, prepare for crash dive."

"Warming up life support, stirring oxygen tanks, checking ballast." There was a loud clanking sound. "Oscar-two nominal. Life support nominal. Ballast tanks nominal. Valves green alpha-tango-bravo. Sounding the crash dive alarm."

A loud klaxon sounded, the goon pressing a spring-loaded button.

"All hands, prepare for crash dive," the helmeted goon spoke into his headset. "Repeat, prepare for crash dive. Two minutes to dive zone. Repeat, two minutes."

Rufus frowned in confusion. Dive zone? Could that mean they were going to land in the ocean? And ballast meant... he suddenly cast about, spying a loose electrician tie-down. He seized it, wrapping the hard plastic tight around his left forepaw.

"Comms, dive readiness report."

"This is the conn. Sections report in. Sections report." There was a communications officer that Rufus couldn't see. The speaker in the cockpit crackled to life.

"Engine room, ready."

"Cargo, ready."

"Marines, ready."

"Flight, ready."

"Ordinance, ready."

"All sections ready, Commodore."

"Good," the Commodore glanced at the altimeter. "Chief, begin countdown, t-minus fifteen."

"All hands, prepare for hard dive, prepare for hard dive." The co-pilot punched a button and a klaxon began to blare as he counted down from fifteen. Rufus could see the white-capped waves fast approaching as the altitude dropped. There was a lurch as the assault pod came down in the water and rose again, a fifty ton skipping rock. The second impact was even more pronounced, jerking Rufus off his feet and hurling him through the register and out of the vent.

With a sudden bone jarring snap, he stopped in mid air, stretched out like beef jerky on a spit. His arm felt numb, but the plastic tie-down had saved him from landing on top of the crew of WEE goons. He swung crazily back and forth.

"Extending dive planes, resetting engines for aquatic drive. Stealth field disrupted and cooling off."

Despite his precarious position, Rufus was amazed. They had converted the gravitic polarization drive of the hoverpod to function as a water propulsion engine? No wonder Wade, Global Justice and Yamanouchi had a hard time finding anything; if there was one place where his master's friend's eyes and ears could not reach, it was the ocean, with it's unstable geothermal activity and strange magnetic phenomena. And an efficient flight and dive crew like this would be exorbitantly expensive to maintain, something that Gemini had always avoided. Rufus was nonplussed by this break from the leader of the Worldwide Evil Empire's modus operandi.

With some effort, he looked up and noted with satisfaction that the register was within reach. He quickly grabbed hold of the lip of the round directional grill and hauled himself painfully back inside, barely avoiding a gloved hand that slapped blindly to adjust the grill. He breathed a sigh of relief and wiped at his brow. He looked back to see the dark purple and cerulean ocean water splashing up and over the cockpit bubble and sat back onto his haunches in consternation.

Rufus considered his options. In seconds, his escape window would disappear, and it could be days before he could contact Ron, Kim or even Wade. However, given the gravity of the situation, and the fact that the feathered bundle smelled like Yori, he would bet that Team Possible was desperate for leads, and they needed solid intelligence and a hard target to pull everything together. The base guaranteed a lot of technology that could be mistakenly "misplaced" and Rufus perfectly positioned to deliver. Kim could probably have managed as well, but it would be harder for her to hide in the confined base of a suddenly efficient, effective and disciplined set of WEE agents.

"Fifteen degrees down-bubble to cruising depth, ahead full."

"Aye aye, Commodore."

The goons were silent for several long moments with only the sound of the ventilation running. A yellow light flickered and the "Chief" reached over the flick a switch under it.

"Levelling out... We have reached cruising depth."

"Chief, you have the conn. I'll be in my quarters."

"Aye, Commodore." As the grey and purple suited man disappeared from view, the Chief of Boat leaned back.

"Was he some sort of military type?"

"Think so," the communications officer replied, still out of view. "He was some ambitious sonuvabitch or something before getting caught raping undershipmen."

"Big daddy was into rough play?" the Chief snorted.

"Dude... Captain was right, you shoot your mouth off too much."

"What? I'm just-"

"I'm gonna stop talking to you, starting... now."

"Fine. Be that way." The Chief sat back to sulk and the cockpit was silent.

If the Captain was willing to stay away from the conn, it was going to be a long wait. More information would be good, such as troops and cargo; then maybe some shut eye. Rufus crawled back towards the battery of fans, now running at high gear. He leaned against the flow, narrowly avoiding being blown back through the small wiring vent he'd first crawled in from. He crawled forward, keeping his short, stubby tail firmly on the ground. Inching carefully past the fans, the air whistled loudly in his ears. It was too long before the pressure eased.

He crawled to the side and lay back against a vent, panting for breath before continuing into the darkness of the vent. His eyes, which had been augmented from his genetic merge with Steve Barkin, his Master's vice principal at school and boasted having eagle eye vision, quickly adjusted to the dark. After a minute, his night vision detected a faint glow ahead.

It was a long line of evenly spaced grills set into the floor of the vents. He snuck up to one and peered down. It was an eerie sight.

He was looking into the troop compartment. It was massive; Rufus counted a twenty-five seats in a column, two lining the fuselage, and another set back to back down the middle for a total of a hundred seats. There were twelve surviving WEE goons. But the strange, disturbing thing was, they sat silently, rigidly in seats that could not have been comfortable. There was none of the typical after action banter or complaining, no comparison of scars or bravado. They just sat, facing each other in the first three spots in the four rows. Rufus studied them for a moment; their dark visors hid their eyes, but he was certain from their faint, disturbing scent that they would be vacant. Silently, he slipped down the length of the vent. At the end of the troop compartment the vent split in two. With the air flowing behind him, the naked mole rat could hardly smell anything but artificially oxygenated and sterilized air. He peered down one, then the other, but both vents ran a few feet before turning and continuing towards the back. With a shrug, the pink-skinned hairless rodent took the left path.

After the turn, the vent narrowed but had the same equally spaced grills as the troop compartment, if smaller. He pulled himself over to a register and stifled a gasp.

Below was the feathered monstrosity that his master and his master's rival had been pursuing. It was strapped down to a cargo sled that was secured for flight by ten secured belts. Gore still coated the right hand claw, congealed to a sticky, black mess. A black cloth sack covered the figure's head. But of all the shocks Rufus had experienced since being thrown into the air, this one was the most profound.

He could hear the distinct sound of weeping. It was a keening, heart wrenching sound, the sound of helplessness, hopelessness.

Rufus considered his options. He would need to get out of the modified hoverpod somehow. He'd never be able to pop open the access panel to the landing gear, and any of the side doors would be out of the question. That left either equipment or personnel. The troop compartment was too spartan to afford any real hiding place, but the cargo bay had heavy crates, weapons lockers and cargo webbing everywhere.

Reaching his decision, Rufus squeezed himself through the register and dropped directly onto the edge of the sled. His left paw slipped and he windmilled his arms frantically to keep his balance. With a small cry, he slid off the sled, but his desperate forepaws clamped on to the edge as he fell. He hung on the smooth metal ledge for a second, trying to calm his beating heart before pulling himself up, where he sat panting and sighed. It was then that the smell hit him.

There was an underlying scent in the room that even the overpowering stench of blood could not cover. He knew this scent. He _knew _it.

The scent was not the stench of putrefaction that the goons had exuded, but a familiar heady smell of sandalwood and cherry blossoms...

He scampered up to the trembling hood, the high keening nearly constant but for the gasping choke for breath.

"Yo-ri?" he intoned slowly.

The crying immediately stopped.

"R-rufus...-san?" The garrulous, raucous croak was a far cry from the kunoichi's soft, polite voice. The sparse hairs on the back of his elbows stood up in a tremor of horror.

Rufus chittered at her, telling her of his plan.

"I... I do not-" Yori paused, hiccoughing, "understand, R-rufus-san."

Rufus knew he couldn't command human language well enough to communicate; only Team Possible knew him well enough to interpret his squeaks and teeth chattering; well, Kim would need to play twenty questions, but he and Ron had formulated the sounds together, like the secret language of twins. He needed Yori to see him. He scampered through the vanes of the hard feathers, worming his way between them. The bottom of the hood was fastened by a locked sliding belt strap around ninja warrior's neck. Rufus chittered again as he tapped the buckle with a foreclaw, before cracking his knuckles and sliding a claw from either forepaw into the lock. It was a relatively simple lock, and with a twist of his paw, the buckle sprang open. He ran the strap through the buckle, then scampered around to the top of the sled and pulled the hood up to expose Yori's face.

The mutated kunoichi's face was unnaturally pale, a leathery light grey. The edge of her face was tough and pimpled, running along her jawline, the sides of her cheek bones and the natural hairline with soft, black feathers that reflected an iridescence at certain angles. Her eyes were nearly completely black, the dark chestnut brown of the irises hiding any white. Rufus recalled that avians did not have tear ducts, but the compressed writhing line of her lips was testament to the intensity of her emotions, and the considerable will she was exercising to control them. Rufus moved to her right shoulder and she turned her head.

"Rufus-san,... how?"

Rufus mimicked some fighting, as if wielding a sword, then pantomimed the act of reaching into a pocket and throwing. He then pretended to fly through the air and stopped dead, before dropping down.

"Ron-san," her voice cracked at the mention of his master, "threw you on-board?"

Rufus nodded eagerly.

"So... Ron-san is alright?"

Rufus nodded vigorously again.

"And...and the others?"

Rufus hesitated. He mimicked preying mantis, made a cutting motion at the elbow of the right arm.

"Yes... I remember..." Yori replied softly.

Rufus then, made some ninjutsu hand gestures, followed by some Shaolin that he had seen Hirotaka practising, and gave a thumbs up.

"Hirotaka and Keiko are fine?"

Rufus nodded a third time and paused. She probably knew, but he should make it clear. He used his claws to indicate long moustaches and the legs folded in lotus position, then sadly shook his head. Yori turned her head away and nodded wordlessly. Rufus put his paw on her cheek until she turned back to him and held up a hand. He pantomimed crying, drawing two claws down from his eyes, then held up his hands, crossing them in an X at mid-forearm, and waved his paws behind him. He pointed down, then made an angry face and smacked a fist into his palm with an audible slap a few times. Unshed tears filled her eyes and she was silent for several long moments.

"Yes, there will always be time for grief and... recriminations later."

Rufus nodded, his face solemn. He mimicked a flying hoverpod landing and pretended to scamper from it, then jumped back, puffing up his chest like one of the WEE goons, pointing the direction he had scampered in and calling for help. He ended with a shrug, his hands turned upward. He hoped Yori understood what he was trying to say.

She nodded.

"I will help you, Rufus-san. And we will bring down the fires of heaven upon these despicable men."

Rufus smiled uncertainly back at the kunoichi's disconcertingly intense gaze.

- KP - KP - - KP - KP - - KP - KP - - KP - KP - - KP - KP - - KP - KP -

"All hands, prepare for landing. All hands, prepare for landing."

The sound of the annoying executive officer rang through the pod, but Rufus managed to ignore it

It wasn't until the dull clanking sound of the hoverpod landing gear doors opening that woke him from his exhausted slumber, that he jerked into bleary consciousness. He had slept at the mouth of a wiring shunt in the cargo area, his skin slightly itchy and dry from the constant flow of air. He clucked his tongue; it would not be pleasant, getting his skin back to its perfectly wrinkled folds. The momentum of the pod slewed clockwise, then dropped, the dull thunks of the gear touching down on something solid causing slight vibrations through the pod.

Rufus, unlike his human partners, never minded the waiting. Things tended to move at a speed that they would, and he never felt the need to hurry one moment to the next, especially when you couldn't do anything from one moment to the other if you weren't already prepared. So, with monk-like patience, Rufus spent most of his present moments preparing for future moments, not ever waiting for them to happen. Martial Arts. Early morning began with Monkey Kung Fu and a run through the track, the tunnel system that Ron had set up in the Stoppable house. After a shower, he studied technical reports, white-papers, schematics on the newest and latest technologies, reviewed villain dossiers, mimicking what he'd observed Kim doing in the distant past. When Ron returned from school, he was the test subject for many of the blond's culinary creations; it was something he loved to do for his friend. He shook himself, silently berating his loss of focus.

Today would test the resourcefulness of his preparation.

There was a commotion near the doorway as troops silently filed to the cargo muster area, slipping past the bound ninja. One of the vacant eyed goons used a keypad with glowing orange buttons; Rufus could clearly see the code, but would never be able to reach the keypad.

"Bird is on the ground, I repeat, bird is on the ground." crackled the intercom. "Dive seals are pressurizing."

There was a loud hissing sound that quickly faded away.

"Pressure stabilized. We have equilibrium. Prepare for disembarkation."

The panel keys turned green and the goon slammed his hand on the crash button. Klaxons blared in tandem with a swirling orange warning siren. The cargo ramp lowered, dropping slowly, painfully slowly. Two goons wrestled with the sled that held Yori immobile, releasing the locks. Yori's head, covered once again, turned this way and that, listening to the sounds. The door lowered to reveal a darkened landing area, the hoverpod dramatically lit by bright floodlights from a metal ceiling. He could see at least one other assault pod in the distance. Three men in lab coats were waiting anxiously. There was also a familiar shape inside an orange powerfield that Rufus recognized. He slipped further back into the circuit shunt.

Yono the Destroyer was here, working with WEE? This... this was unprecedented! Gemini was a certified psychotic paranoid schizophrenic! He never worked with others, especially those he considered a threat. Could the Destroyer have been neutralized?

The ramp lowered to the landing pad with a loud, reverberating clang, and the goons filed out. Two of the lab coats examined each of the men as they came down the ramp, checking eyes, the inside of mouths and looking at the backs of their necks, the third nervously waiting with the indifferently bored Yono who was lounging on his side inside the energy field.

The last to be examined were the two men who pushed Yori's sled. The lab coated men released a catch and flipped the slab over lengthwise, so that Yori hung underneath from her restraints. Rufus had noticed the slot cut through the metal sled, and was now witnessing how it was used. The third held up something on a metal rod, pushing the object into the energy field that held the Destroyer. With his head turned in apathy, Yono touched the... ring? and there was a flash of yellow energy. The technician quickly withdrew it, handing it to another technician who opened a near invisible seam on the ring... no, it was a collar. Rufus could not make out was was inside the small, glowing aura of malevolence, but knew it could not be good.

The technician holding the collar moved carefully and deliberately, as the other two brought a rolling trolley ladder and locked it to the side of the slab. The man held the collar away from his body, as if unconsciously responding to some primal fear instinct, and mounted the three steps and gingerly mounted the sled. He stood over the immobilized Yori and began to thread the collar slowly, carefully through the slot, his feet on either side of the slot.

_Ting. Ting. Ting._

There was a faint metallic tapping noise. Rufus raced to the hinge of the cargo ramp and slipped into the dark shadow beneath. From the darkness, he scanned the hangar, noting entrances, exits and vents. He quickly plotted his course. The only humans that seemed to have any volition were the technicians, and they were focused solely on applying the collar to Yori, who had given Rufus his signal, tapping a clawed finger against the hard surface of the sled. Rufus closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. But even all his mental preparation did not prepare him for what happened next. There was a sharp, audible clack as the collar closed on the transformed kunoichi's neck.

Yori's piercing shriek echoed through the cavernous landing bay. The terrifying sound reverberated as a sickly, burnt yellow light flared from the back of her neck, through the metal slit. Beneath, Yori's body trembled, minutely at first but with increasing urgency. Rufus didn't pause, but ran, full tilt towards the aft landing skid of the nearest assault pod. From there, it was only thirty feet to a vent. Behind him, he could hear the shivering increase in the reverberating cry, soaring in a roaring crescendo of the transformed girl's voice. The metal sled began to vibrate, the technician scrambling off, nearly falling from the trolley step ladder in his haste. The three technicians stepped back, uncertain and afraid. Rufus didn't pause at the skid but scampered right for the vent. There was a sudden, turquoise blue flash of light that burst across the hangar. The naked mole rat could see his shadow sharp and distinct against the vent grill, and the ringing sound of shattering glass. He reached the vent, a large grill with two inch spaced bars that held a large, two foot, slow rotating fan. He quickly slipped through one of the large squares of the grill and under the fan frame held in place by rubber spacers. He turned back to see the smoking remains of the collar lying on the ground beneath Yori's shivering body. The technicians were warily approaching the now silent girl, while Yono wore a thoughtful look. Rufus paused, before reluctantly turning away from the ninja.

He cringed at the thought of what he had left Yori to. She had not explained how she would create a distraction for him, but now a deep and burning resolve rose from the suddenly horrific understanding of her willing sacrifice. Yori was a girl... a woman, that Rufus admired for her quiet strength and uncommonly gentle demeanour, not to mention her martial skills. If Rufus had lacked any determination to see the villains brought down, or harboured some doubt as to the task ahead of him, it was burned away from the kunoichi's example.

He scampered into the shadowed unknown of the ventilation, his senses shocked alert and tingling. Into the darkness.

* KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP *

He had a plan.

Find the nearest computer terminal and see if any of the training Wade had provided him would pay off. Not that he had the child genius's intuitive and inspirational talent for hacking, but he was methodical and detail oriented enough to crack most systems.

The return vents seemed to stretched for miles. If the size of the hangar bay was any indication, miles, was probably right. The further he moved into the vents, the darker it became. He was in his element, there in the close, warm dark. Like his ancestors, his keen sense of smell, hearing, touch, even taste, were finely attuned to the dark. The constant air ruffled his few sensing hairs, the scents and sounds converging into his vent guiding him. He'd entered a return vent, the air being slowly moved back through the system for recycling.

He stopped at the first junction, but the smell of diesel and grease, coupled by the quiet hiss of hydraulics down the right side told him it lead to a garage and repair centre. The other side smelled faintly of gun oil and acetone, indicated an armoury or munitions locker of some sort. He kept moving, always in the direction the air was moving.

At the fifth junction, he saw a grill near the main return trunk he was following and he went over to take a peek out. There was a strong smell of body odour, and breathing through his mouth seemed to make it worse. He pause just short of the lip of the grill before cautiously peering around the corner. Lying by the grill was the back of a grey and purple clad goon, his cowl removed. He lay there listlessly, his skin although healthy seeming, was puckered and leaking puss from something embedded in his neck. Rufus leaned forward and squinted, wondering what it might be. A new mind control chip? he thought before it suddenly twitched. Rufus leapt backwards, his hands before his mouth. It was, most definitely, an _eye_ that was in the man's neck. The naked mole rat shivered with horror before silently returning to the main trunk and kept moving.

He reached a t-junction and continued following the air flow, wondering just how he might find a computer or science lab.

However, after several hours of scampering, he was beginning to doubt his plan. He had tried to memorize the glimpses of the lair maps posted every so often in the corridors near ventilation shafts. He wasn't a bad map reader, but he now found himself in the residential dome. He needed to get to the science and research dome, or the command dome, but the journey seemed to take forever. Perhaps he could use one of the personal computers, trusted in the network, to get at the schematics of the entire underwater fortress he was currently surreptitiously exploring. A fortress was an apt name for the lair; he'd counted at least a hundred guard goons armed with lethal ordinance, a far cry from Gemini's penchant for stylish melee weapons. Several of the rooms he'd passed were large, communal living quarters and were always filled with personnel in purple and grey or in bright prismatic colours.

He paused again to consider his priorities.

The residential area should have a cafeteria; he had not eaten in several hours, and he knew if he was to continue, he needed supplies to keep his strength from flagging. He had yet to catch even the slightest scent of food, but he wasn't concerned; with so many people there had to be a place to eat. But after the seventh hour, he needed rest more than food or water. He finally paused near a vent to the showers, that looked down upon rows and rows of lockers. One locker was left open as a tall lanky man wrapped a towel around his waist and sauntered over to the showers. This goon was lagging behind, a crowd of others, already dressed in their body suits calling him names as they filed out the door. As the last of them left, Rufus slipped silently through the large grill and swung into the top shelf of the open locker, picking up a small tub of dental floss left beside a bottle of Old Spice cologne. He paused before a the shaving mirror, sighing as he examined the dry patches of skin from his time in the pod. The sound of the water being turned off jerked him back to himself and Rufus quickly flipped back onto the top of the lockers, pulled out a good length of dental floss. He swung the tub around in a tight circle before releasing it. The tub flew into the above grill and wrapped securely around one of the fins. After a few quick tugs, Rufus climbed up the floss and into the grill, pulling the end of the impromptu rope behind him as he ascended. he pulled the strand into the dark of the vent as the goon came back out of the showers, dripping water everywhere.

Rufus leaned against the vent wall, blowing out a sigh of relief. He tied the dental floss tub onto his back, looping the extra length of floss around his waist and across his back and chest before returning to the main shaft where he lay down on the hard, cold metal. As much as he needed to find some way to communicate with Team Possible, he needed to keep his strength up. He propped his head in his arms and closed his eyes, wondering what his master and best friend might be doing.

* KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP *

He awoke with a start. Rufus paused, disoriented for a moment, unsure of where he was, until he spied a reddish glow at the far end of the shaft in the direction he'd come from. He squinted at the odd glow before a large mechanical device heaved itself into view. Rufus jumped up his heart hammering in his chest. At the far end of the vent was a silent monstrosity of circular blades. Nearly silent the soft rubber wheels that held it firmly in the confined space as its laser detection field swept back and forth. He instantly recognized Jack Hench's latest vent vermin killer robot. Five glowing red eyes glared malevolently as it slid forward. Rufus darted away hoping the thermal sensors had missed him, but the machine behind him suddenly lurched forward, charging.

Rufus squeaked with alarm and scampered as fast as his little legs could carry him, the robot coming down the vent fast. There came an ominous whine as the blades began to spin. He glanced behind him and saw a glowing, fang-like hatch sliding open, revealing a destructive heat that would burn his body to dust after it was decorpulated by the blades. The machine was getting closer, and he still couldn't find a vent.

He ran, his fear a palpable aura. He rounded the corner of a t-shaped junction, not pausing to stop, but running along the wall as his momentum allowed. He scrabbled, pushing harder. He squeaked in horror as another vermin bot appeared at the far end of the main trunk. Rufus cast about desperately. There! The faint light of a cross junction just shy of half way between himself and flaming metallic death. Rufus dug deep into his physical reserves, still fearful of calling forth the mystical monkey power with Yono so close by. He pelted down the shaft, the blades looming closer and closer, in front and behind. He charged into the side shaft as the vermin bots closed, the breeze of the blades ruffling his sensing hairs.

A vent! Ten feet. A veritable desert, a grand approach of triumph, the long march in the dead of terror. His eyesight contracted, everything turning grey. His muscles strained as he hurtled towards the vent. Behind him the bots rearranged themselves and the new dealer of death surged forward as silent wheels gained purchase in the vent and the segmented body contracted to fit in the narrow space.

Nine feet.

Eight feet.

Seven feet.

His head pounded with the blood pumping through his dread driven, frantic flight.

Six feet.

Five feet.

Four.

The breeze of the blades was like the kiss of death, and Rufus, gasping, willed greater speed to his already aching, failing muscles.

Three.

Two.

The tub of floss on his back broke loose, the knitted, waxed coated line falling from around him. The tub bounced once, twice, before the blades caught it up, cracking open its shell. The line around him caught on the axle plane of a blade and immediately wound around and around, drawing tight and flipping the hapless naked mole rat into the air, the blade hunching forward suddenly, reaching for him.

Rufus shrieked as the cruel teeth shredded his tender back, blood splattering warm and wet across his shoulders.

There was a sensation of falling.

A crunch.

Then, nothing.

* KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP *

It was the pain that let him know that he was not dead.

He opened his eyes, crusty and bleary with sleep and groaned from the dull pulling pain on his back.

"You're awake," came a melodious voice.

But the voice was nothing to the fragrance that wafted over him.

It was a light, caressing bouquet of lilacs, peach and lime. Slightly earthy in flavour, but the feminine essence of it wafted over him like a transcendental tease. A blurred shadow leaned across, the scent overpoweringly alluring.

"How do you feel?"

It took a few moments before Rufus realized that she was speaking his language, the chittering chatter of naked mole rat that he had not heard since he was a pup, taken from the warm, rough hide of his mother. He'd recognize it anywhere.

"I..." he croaked. Gentle fingers slid under his head as a tube was pressed to his lips. He sipped carefully, but upon realizing he was drinking water, he gulped greedily.

"Slowly, slowly!" admonished the voice. He forced himself to obey unprotesting until the tube was removed. His vision was clearing with every breath. He looked up at his saviour and gaped.

Before him stood the lithe, slim figure of a naked mole rat... yet not. She had the general shape and claws of his species, but her head was a gloriously adorable oval, tipped with the cutest, curiously upturned nose of a ferret, her neck slender and charmingly tapered. Exotic sapphire eyes, large and almond shaped, gazed back at him unblinking. And she was not hairless, but had a sleek coat of startling grey, an alluring short-haired shimmer.

"I... sorry, I haven't spoken the language... for so long," Rufus stammered.

"Ah. Well, you are obviously a stranger," she quipped, turning to push back an upturned cage watering bottle. Rufus could see that he was sheltered in the close shadows of a hole in the wall. Above was a pretty scarf, a tangible patina of earthy colours. He lay on his side, his back a sullen, burning smoulder. Her lips quirked in wry amusement. "Imagine my surprise when a strange mole rat, naked, comes tumbling out of the overhead vent and onto my mistress's prized scarf."

"I... I apologize for the surprise," Rufus continued, stumbling over a language made strange from disuse. "It was not my intent to make such an introduction in such a manner." He paused, gazing about, his stomach plummeting from a sudden elation of meeting such a creature as he spied the strange cobbled shadows of cuddle bunnies in the room beyond the crack that served as entrance and gate. "Is... is your Mistress DNAmy?"

The oddly attractive personage, whom he was sure was part ferret, part mole, paused and gave him a sidelong glance. Her scent changed subtly, but was quite clear in her icy distaste.

"Yes," she demurred, resuming her folding of some torn cloth. "She has been called that." Suddenly, Rufus placed the accent, the soft, clipped cadence of continental French. Imagine that! "And before you ask, yes, I am a Ferremole. As after the Mistress's particular penchant for Cuddle Buddies." The cool distaste dropped several degrees lower.

"I am called Rufus, as you said, a naked mole rat, of-of the Merina." He never thought to ever have the opportunity to give his matronym. The graceful claws pause in smoothing out the rags.

"Rufus," she mused, then stiffened. "Wait..._ the _Merina? Then... Let me see you back," she replied gruffly, but unmistakably, he could scent her embarrassment, which deepened. So she was not in full control of her pheromones as a normal mole rat. She lowered herself with soft deliberateness on the bed behind him, her claws carefully peeling back the bandages with infinite care. She gasped, her surprise palpable. She ran her hand down his back forcing Rufus to keep from squirming from the delightful and gentle fingers. "You... you're healed! But... but how...?"

"It still pulls and aches," Rufus shrugged, "but I tend to heal very quickly. I suppose the cut looked worse than it really was."

"Looked worse? I even... well, no... I-... the stitches are still there, I may need to remove them now..." Her long whiskers twitched as her embarrassment returned. "Do not move."

Rufus remains still, although he shivered with delight when her graceful whiskers tickled his back. He can feel her breath tremulously on his back as carefully, one by one, she nipped at the stitches in his back with her teeth. He counted twelve stitches before she leaned back and put a hand to her cheek as if to cover her embarrassment.

Rufus slowly sat up, his back still a dull sullen ache.

"Do... do you always heal... like this?" the Ferremole asked. Rufus paused, not willing to tax his strength by standing.

"It's happened before; it'll happen again," he shrugs, scenting her confusion and awe. "Was... was it truly that bad?"

"To the bone."

"To the-!" Rufus paused. "Wait! Did you pull something out of my back?"

"Yes, some sort of computer chip, although I had to cut the wires."

"Oh,..." Rufus hedged. He was glad he'd asked Wade to chip him. "Thank you for your help. I would have died without it." She turned away quickly, ducking her head and stands, smoothing the fur on her stomach.

"All life is sacred," she replied with a touch of sadness before gathering her courage to speak further. "How is it that you... came here?"

"My master sent me," he decided to dissemble, speaking slowly, watching warily. "In the past, he was one of your Mistress's opponents."

"Ah? Truly?" The silver Ferremole's surprise and confusion permeated her scent.

"I have been a victim of her science in the past," he said. "Her... her creations are innocents, caught up in her madness to out do nature, to place her own stamp upon it." He paused a moment, then added, "but now, I find myself profoundly grateful for it."

"Ah... I-... I see." He could sense her blush.

"And may I know the name of my benefactress?"

"I am Avery."

"Avery," he rolled the name around inside his head for a moment. "A beautiful name. It means 'Wisdom of the Fey'."

"Really? How wonderfully romantic," Avery laughed self-consciously, an altogether luscious sound.

"How long have I been unconscious, Avery?" She counted the hours on her claws. Rufus noted that although they were mole rat claws, they were more slender, a lighter colour.

"Perhaps six or seven hours?"

"Six or seven!" Rufus lurched to his feet. "I need to go." Avery rushed to his side as he staggered.

"No, you can't... you don't even have the strength!"

"Avery, I must. It isn't your mistress that is the real threat here... she herself may be in danger herself. It's Gemini that must be stopped."

"Gemini?"

"Short, with an eye-patch; one hand is mechanical."

"I know him. I've seen this Gemini and he... he smells... _bad_." Rufus understood. The dread that surrounds Avery, thinking about the leader of the Worldwide Evil Empire, was so deep it rendered her unable to articulate her terror. He laid a claw on Avery's shivering shoulder, then resolutely walked over to the opening in the wall.

"Where is your mistress?." He flattened himself against the wall beside the hole and edged forward to look outside. He glanced back at the Ferremole as she seemed in turmoil about one thing or another.

"She was called away by Gemini, she said something about a disobedient homo corvus macrorhynchos," she said, distractedly. He turned back to the opening.

They were in the middle of the wall at one end of a long grey room. On the left wall was a door with a slot of an electricity card. Further down the wall was a desk with a metal chair and a computer. On the right was a bed covered with brightly coloured plush toys carefully arranged in a semi-circle, and a dresser. The opposite wall had another nondescript door.

He scampered out from the hole, aiming for the nearby dresser.

"Wait, what are you doing?" he heard Avery call out as he sprinted. He slammed up against the dresser side and crouched down, and hid behind the corner. The bed was a simple metal frame, bolted to the floor. Beneath was a set of drawers that was attached to the bottom of the frame. He ran straight for the chair and leapt, catching the edge of the seat and digging in with his claws. He could hear the clicking of Avery's claws as she followed him. He swung up onto the seat and another moment found him in front of the computer screen and keyboard. He could feel the faint stirring of air that told him the computer was still on.

He hit the enter key to wake the computer and the screen sprung to life to display herds of Cuddle Buddie plush toys strolling in a chaotic mishmash. He recognized it as a screensaver that Kim had once on her computer screen. The cavalcade of odd creatures blinked and disappeared to reveal a standard HenchCo login screen.  
His first password attempt, the Cuddle Buddie anniversary date, failed. Next he tried the day that she had first met Monkey Fist, something he'd found in the Global Justice files on Montgomery Fiske. The failure to log in ping sounded again. He sat, and thought hard about what he knew about Dora Nanon Hall nee Ami, his right arm across his chest and the other tapping the claws against his cheek. He turned to the room and looked all around, then he noted something. On top of the dresser was a sealed plush case with a Flamingoat inside,... separate from the rest...

He whirled around and typed in the anniversary date for the flamingoat and the answering chime made him smile. The screen blinked again and the HenchCo desktop appeared. Behind him, Avery's claws scrabbled on the desk. After aseveral attempts, she still couldn't pull herself over the edge. Rufus smiled indulgently as he walked over and seized one of her claws. Avery looked up in surprise, then smiled sheepishly. Avery gasped as he pulled her onto the desk.

"You... you logged in?"

"Yep."

"How did you do it?" Rufus buffed his claws on his chest.

"No problem." He returned to the keyboard, Avery trailing behind in awe. He knew all the security holes of the HenchCo system, and while they weren't obvious, there were logic holes that were kept very secret. Especially the backdoor that was hidden under layers and layers of obfuscating files.

He opened the hidden developer's command panel. Rufus smiled and cracked the shorted knuckles of his claws, chortling before bending over and furiously typing.

Avery looked on as line upon line of code was written, carefully and methodically like a master mason creating a masterpiece. She didn't fully understand what Rufus was doing, but it was clear that he was very talented... and as she continued to stare at his naked back, rather cute.

It wasn't long before, Rufus had his stealth spiker program written and compiled. With a theatrical slam of his paw on the enter button, he ran his program. The script was a sophisticated logger, hijacker and packet sniffer, used to piggy backing on data and overwriting authentication checks. It would also send brief data reports along an obfuscating line of answering IP addresses. He estimated he'd know which nodes he needed to crack in a matter of minutes.

"What... what are you doing, Ser Medina?" Rufus turned to see Avery, holding her hands together in front of her, her head turned away deferentially.

"I'm trying to get a map of the network. The program should tell me which nodes have higher security. From there, i should be able to crack the security."

"Why would you do that?" Avery's wary inquisitiveness gave Rufus some pause.

"Gemini has armed guards; he's never done that before. If Global Justice were to come and rescue my friends, they would need to know where we are and the layout of the base. And I also need some way to get the information to them. I have an idea... but it's a long shot."

"Glo- Global justice? Long shot?"

"It's risky and has a low probability of working. Still, I need to try it." An chime sounded and Rufus smiled.

He got to work.

There was a cluster of nodes that had the most security that HenchCo could provide; which wasn't much, if you knew the system and its secrets. The problem was in covering his tracks, but he was careful. He found a computer that had a cellphone tether and used the mobile carrier to connect to the Bluetooth connection of another computer to route his intrusion programs. Once he had that physical spacer, it would be infinitely harder for them to trace the logs. He also wrote a small section to alter the logs on DNAmy's computer; if the portly geneticist's computer was discovered to be the source, what would it mean for Avery? It didn't bear thinking.

Once he was past the firewalls by linking to the HenchCo backdoor tunnel, he found a section with several folders. One named "Charon", another named "Diyu" and another named "Leviathan." The names sent intuitive shivers down his spine. Charon was the ferryman over the river Styx, that brought souls that had sufficient payment of two drachmas to the lands of the dead, to be judged by the much maligned and unjustly demonized Hades of Greek mythology. Leviathan was an ancient biblical reference to a large, unknown aquatic animal of extreme size and danger. Diyu, he didn't know. He opened Leviathan, and found several large files. He didn't recognize the extension "dxf." The files were large; into gigabyte territory.

He decided that he needed to get into the environmental controls; that might give him enough information to cross-reference a GPS database... of course! He could use his GPS chip; with Wade's latest GPS satellite hack, he should be able to get access and send a message even with such a weak signal as his his embedded chip... but that meant some surgery to be involved. Which meant he'd need help.

He turned to look at Avery, who was at the side of the keyboard, watching him with a curious and conflicted scent.

"Avery..."

"Yes Rufus?"

"I'm going to need your help. I need you to-" There was a sudden noise at the door. Rufus spun around and hit the quit button to the HenchCo backdoor terminal, and hit the quick key to bring up the screen saver. The door opened and a portly, freckled woman waddled in, muttering angrily under her breath.

His heart hammering in his chest, Rufus jumped for the screen's power button. The screen flickered and went out. He slipped behind the monitor stand just as the chair he had used to gain the top of the desk creaked in protest as the woman sat down heavily.

"Oh, Avery, Mommy doesn't like that small little angsty midget, no she doesn't!" Rufus waited for the Ferremole to say something, anything. Just one word, one gesture, and DNAmy would make him her next experiment. What would she do to him this time? Bond him with a lizard? An aquatic creature?

"I know, Avery, I know. But it's alright, right? He brought mommy Monty-poo, didn't he? " Rufus continued to wait. The monitor shifted as a stubby, tapered finger jabbed the power button on the monitor, which rocked precariously. Rufus nearly squeaked, his back aching ferociously as the stand slammed against his injury. He clapped both paws to his mouth.

There was a furious typing that went on for several minutes. He could see Avery, who had edged to the corner of the desk in order to get a glimpse of him. She put out a paw, low and behind her back in a "stay put" motion. Rufus nodded minutely. Avery scurried out of sight, once again with her mistress.

"What is it Avery? Does Mommy smell like work again? I suppose I should take a shower before I sleep." There was a deep suffering sigh. "Just a few more minutes, dear. Mommy wants to check on that naughty naughty raven." There was some more typing. "What... what are they doing? They're taking her away... Sorry Avery, but Mommy needs to go!" There was a scramble and the heavy pattering stomping faded as the door slid shut behind the frantic scientist.

Rufus waited, frozen in shock. He started when he felt a touch at his shoulder. Avery withdrew her paw, her face sad and grave.

"The raven spliced human," Rufus murmured. "What is happening to her?"

"Is she your friend?" Avery replied evasively.

"Yes, she is my master's friend," Rufus said as he slipped in front of the monitor. It displayed a room that Rufus had seen before. In the background was a fuzzy image of a genetic zipper. He shuddered at the sight. There was a bank of computers along the right wall and two tables nearest to the camera of the image. There were some locks set into the floor; no doubt, they were used to immobilize the gurney. The room was empty.

"She is being sent to the Island," the Ferremole said as Rufus put a hand on the monitor, wondering if he'd missed something.

"The Island?"

"It's where they send all of Mistress's creations," Avery nodded sadly. "If they are too big, or too dangerous, or unstable. It's horrible."

"Horrible, why?"

Avery paused and Rufus turned to look at her. A shiver of fear ran up his spine at the hunched anguish of her shoulders.

"It's... a... testing facility... for the agents." Avery forced the words out, as it speaking them was something that hurt her. "The send new agents for testing every week." She turned away. "This man Mistress deals with, he's always hiring new men."

"They... they are taking my friend there! The raven, she's a friend, I know her!" Rufus began to pace. "I need to stop this. That man your mistress works with, he is a killer. He kills people!"

"I know, I've smelled blood on him," Avery's voice quailed. "I've warned Mistress again and again that we should leave. But she would not leave without her Monty-poo."

"There's something else, Avery," Rufus continued. "There is something very wrong happening here, and I don't understand it, even though I've seen it."

"Rufus,..."

"The eyes, Avery... the eyes! Have you seen them?"

"No," Avery breathed. "But then, I have seen the bodies of men, walking, talking, eating... but they did not smell right. Not like men." Rufus stopped and they shared a look.

"What do you mean, Avery," Rufus asked, his voice full of dread. Avery hesitated.

"They smelled dead, Rufus. Like walking corpses."

Rufus was still as he absorbed this. He didn't know what was happening, but with Yori's life in danger and Yamanouchi in disarray, and Global Justice reeling from a significant blow... Team Possible needed to take the field, but even Kim's and Ron's talents would be useless without a target. He needed to contact them. He needed to get the right information, and quickly. And he needed help. He needed Avery. He turned toward the worried Ferremole.

"Avery, if you want to help your Mistress, you must help me. Gemini, the short man you speak of, should not be allowed to continue. You know that sooner or later, he will betray everyone. Everyone, Avery. I can help stop him, but I need your help!"

"But... but Mistress-"

"I promise, as much as I can, she will not come to harm."

Avery hesitated, her head bowed as her indecision roiled around them. She slowly raised her head and stared resolutely into Rufus' eyes.

"I will help." He could tell it hurt for her to say that, and he reached out a paw and took hers in his. She looked at him, her large slanted eyes looking back at his own dark ones as he squeezed her hand reassuringly. She squeezed back.

"You won't regret it, Avery. You have my word."

"The word of a Medina, here at the bottom of the ocean?" Her lips quirked in strained amusement.

"Whatever it's worth, you have it." Rufus grinned, his incisors shining. "Now, here is my plan..."

* KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP * * KP *

"Now, be a good girl, Avery," DNAmy cooed, patting the Ferremole on her sleek head. "Mommy is going to visit her Monty-poo, and she won't be back until morning, alright?" Avery simply looked up at the woman with a quizzical tilt to her head. "I've left some cookies on the desk in case you get hungry during the night. Bye bye!" And with that, the portly geneticist stepped out of the room and closed the door. The cream coloured animal's head drooped, releasing a sigh.

"Thank you, Avery," Rufus said, crawling out from under the bed on all fours. Avery was already opening the dresser drawers, pulling the bottom out as far as it could go, then climbing inside and pulling the next out, creating a stairway of drawers. At the top, she pulled out a long narrow leather belt with a hooked buckle as Rufus climbed onto the chair and pulled open the purse that sat on it. After a moment of searching and Avery's quizzical eyes on him, he squeaked in excited triumph, and pulled out a small laser pointer. Avery gave him a dubious glance as he hefted his prize.

"Save your thanks," Avery muttered. Rufus could smell her guilt. Avery leapt down, belt in hand. She paused by the door, then turned back to look at the room. Her lips compressed into a tight, worried line. Her pheromones were a maelstrom of emotions. Rufus put his paw on her shoulder and immediately, the scents coalesced into a pair of strong feelings that made Rufus nearly twitch with attraction. The Ferremole turned and wound the belt loosely in her right hand, whirling the buckle end at her side. With a deft flick, the buckle sailed up wrapped around the door handle, the hooked end snagging neatly.

Rufus whistled with admiration.

"Where'd you learn that?" he wondered aloud joining Avery as she heaved on the belt. Avery ducked her head in embarrassment.

"It gets lonely being cooped up in the room when Mistress is away," she admitted. "So sometimes I go exploring."

"I suppose that's why you also know the ways to avoid the security cameras?"

"They only posted them at airlocks. They do not fear those of our size." Rufus, thinking back to a previous mission where he had heard the name Rufus Prime, smiled.

"They're about to learn why they should."

Avery peered out of the door, then motioned to Rufus before scampering down the hall. He was hard pressed to stay close to the Ferremole, who stood nearly a head taller, but he didn't mind the sight of the slender form moving before him.

She stopped at a corner and entered a cable shunt, climbing quickly up the bundled wiring and emerging near the ceiling and crossing over the elevated pipes. Rufus marvelled as they ran, glancing at the camera by the watertight door. Avery jumped without breaking stride into a vent, her claws scrabbling. Rufus jumped and landed by her side.

Rufus was hard pressed to memorize the labyrinthine myriad of shadowed, gunmetal grey corridors. Rufus supposed that it was to conserve on energy and to avoid detection. So he let Avery lead him, like a will o' wisp through the maze of pipes, cables shunts and ventilation shafts. Periodically, Avery would slow and raise a paw to signal caution, crawling torturously next to nearby humans, unseen as the goons went about Gemini's business.

Avery raised her paw sharply as they made one last turn at a floor level shunt. Rufus skidded to a halt and peered around her. They were standing about three feet from what appeared to be an elevator.

"How many floors?" he whispered, standing on the tips of his paws to put his mouth close to Avery's delicately rounded ears.

"Five. This elevator is the least travelled, but has a fisheye camera in the corner above the panel. The only way to get into the elevator undetected is through the carbon monoxide detector shunt, up the cabling inside and the across the fire retardant springklers up top. From there, we swing in with the belt and hook our paws into the light fixture."

"Five floors?" His whiskers trembled in a strange tingle of trepidation and excitement. Avery could sense his reticence.

"I was caught here three times before I figured out there was a camera," she admitted.

"A daring route," Rufus surveyed the route across to the detector shunt.

"I wasn't caught a fourth time," Rufus chuckled at Avery's smug tone.

"Really."

"Well," she temporized, "not here anyway." With that she raced for the shunt. Rufus grinned before scampering after her. By the time they made their way up to the sprinkler, the elevator had opened only once. Avery hooked the belt on the sprinkler pipe they each took hold of the end. Avery's whiskers trembled slightly and Rufus tried to ignore her wonderful scent.

He felt the vibrations and the hissing air long before they heard the elevator arriving, or the chime of the bell. The single panelled door slid open and two uniformed men.

"You think we can get the game or something?" Avery's paws gripped the belt, and Rufus could feel the tremor of intent. Just as the two men passed beneath them, they launched themselves off the pipe and swung with surprising force through the air towards the elevator. The belt whipped down and Avery snapped her long lithe body upwards at the antapex of their arc, flinging them through the entrance as the door slid shut, the belt hook slipping just as they hit the fixture grill in the ceiling. Rufus struck with a little more force than he expected, but his long claws held tight as he anchored Avery as she reeled in the belt as fast as her paws could work. The sounds of the goons faded as they walked away.

"You kidding? The whole data stream's locked down. Why do you think Tri-gamma delta got the call?"

"Shiiiiit..."

Avery barely got the hook through before the elevator door shut. They both breathed a sigh of relief; hearing each other, they shared a look and smiled, before Avery looked down at the panel and handed the end of the belt to the mole rat who threaded it through the grill and secured it around himself. Avery carefully lowered herself, her paws tightly gripping the belt as she played it out above her, sliding slowly past the fisheye camera set into the top of the button panel and carefully selecting second last from the bottom. With equal care, she slid upwards as Rufus reeled her in. He gave a grunt as she hooked her claws into the light fixture. With the adrenaline still thundering through them, they gave each other a triumphant glance as the elevator began to move.

Rufus gave Avery a thumbs up, who replied it was a grin.

They had discussed the plan of action, but mostly, it was to get to DNAmy's lab in the research and science habitat, which required them to take the long circuitous route to the elevator they were riding and make almost as long a route to a remote part of the Practical Research section. Rufus was still quite nervous, since their long route made the possibility of detection much greater, but that was mitigated by the general lack of traffic.

Turning his mind back to the present Rufus looked at the Ferremole with increasing respect. Although her whiskers trembled with strain, Avery's calm was close to his own. He privately berated himself, thinking of a hybrid animal that way, yet she had a spark of intelligence that other animal hybrids had always lacked.

As they passed the command level, the elevator pinged. Avery gave Rufus a nervous glance and he nodded reassuringly at her, glad that no one else seemed to use the elevator. Avery's arms were beginning to tremble.

The elevator chimed as it dropped into the science habitat. Rufus slowly lowered himself, handing from his hind claws and slipped the laser pointer into his paws as Avery readied the belt. At the first vibration, Rufus pressed the button and sent the red beam into the camera as the Ferremole played out the belt. At the jolting stop Avery swung the belt back, then whipped it forward as the door slid open. The belt played out and wrapped itself around a pipe, nearly identical to the one they had used to swing into the lift. Rufus stowed the laser pointer and gripped the belt just below Avery's paws and they swung out together, but as they did, Avery's paws slipped.

Rufus lashed out a hind leg and grasped her wrist. Her weight nearly jerked loose his own grip, but he held on tight with a groan, deftly swinging her onto the electrical shunt they were aiming for. Avery grabbed a bundle with one hand, the other holding his leg, preventing him from swinging back towards the elevator, saving him from smacking into the closing panels. Rufus clambered awkwardly onto the shunt as Avery took the belt end from him. She held it taut as he clambered. back across the belt and unsecured it. With additional slack, she secured it by wrapping it around the wire bundle and bracing herself as he swung back over and pulled himself back to the shunt. They both collapsed, panting heavily, gasping for air, before sharing another look. She giggled uncontrollably as Rufus outright chittered out his laughter.

It took them twenty minutes to get to DNAmy's lab.

They didn't bother with the door, just running through a small maintenance tunnel to the side of the door. Avery held out a warning hand before glancing into the room, Rufus following suit. It opened into a greyish, large, high ceilinged room. Two large cylindrical tanks dominated the wall to the right, flanked by ominous machinery and computers. Pipes connected to a complicated array of containers, many under some sort of thermal control system. On the left was a bank of screens and a keyboard. In the middle of the floor, however, were three extra large shadows that Rufus immediately identified as hostile. Great hairy lumps, one a strong, knuckle dragging body but with short grey hair and long dropping ears of a dwarf rabbit. The second was a tall antlered triangular head and sleek neck that ended in a shaggy, musclebound, split-hooved legs. The last was the largest, a half-shelled giant with wide flapping ears and a long, greenish grey trunk of a nose. Rufus watched from the shadows as Avery slipped along the small space left by the computer equipment to their right. They went past the computers, then turned the corner and came out just beside one of the large vats where Avery held up a hand. Rufus stopped.

"Stay here," she whispered into his ear, sending a thrill down his spine. "They spook easy, especially with strangers." With that, she scampered out, carefully, near one of the slumbering giants and clambered onto its shoulder to whisper into the creature's ears. The Eleturtle rolled over ponderously, then stood up. The others, awoken by their comrade's sudden rising, awoke, the Deeryak snorting in annoyance and the Gorrihare's nose twitching. They crowded around the Eleturtle, who was now holding Avery gently in its hand, the Gorrihare giving a deep chest rumble of satisfaction and the Deeryak tossing it's head. The Eleturtle ducked as the antlers swept by. After a long moment of grunts and rumbles, the three hulking genetically zippered giants turned and hunkered down before Rufus. Avery jumped down, her eyes sparkling.

"Rufus, these are my friends," Avery pointed, beginning with the Gorrihare. "This is Denver. This one is Houston, and this," she ended with the Eleturtle, "is Kili." Each emitted a sound as they were introduced. "Denver, Houston, Kili, this is Rufus." Rufus waved a paw warily.

"You... you speak their language?" he asked from the corner of his mouth.

"All of us can speak to each other somehow, but it's more intuitive than a real language. It was Mother's idea, to make our working together easier. But it was I," Avery drew herself up proudly, "who named them. Imagine working with colleagues and only being able to say 'hey, you?'"

"That's amazing, Avery." The Ferremole ducked her head. Houston nudged Denver with what Rufus thought suspiciously sounded like a chuckle.

"Kili will be of much use to you; she is scheduled for refuse duty in approximately twelve hours," she said while shooting the Deeryak a glare. "Denver can stand before the camera to block it's view. Houston is actually very good with building machinery; he says he has an... EPROM, is that the word? Kit that you can use to reprogram your GPS chip... which... I, uh..." Avery suddenly sheepishly pulled from behind her back. Rufus squeaked in alarm, seeing Wade's GPS chip in her hands. He took it carefully out of her hands, turning it in his claws as he inspected the transistors. "I meant to give it to you earlier... but... well, you have it now, at any rate." Satisfied with his inspection, Rufus looked up.

"Thank you Avery. You removed it when I was injured?" He raised an eyebrow as the Ferremole nodded.

"It was not damaged but was protruding at an odd angle, so I thought it best at the time."

"Great. It saves us both the need to open my back again. And a trip to the infirmary." Rufus grinned as Avery shuffled self consciously. Houston snorted then followed the sound with a grunt. Rufus could smell her embarrassment and smiled inwardly.

"Well!" Rufus clapped his paws together. "Shall we get started?"

"Kili," Avery turned to the large muscular mass, "the regular spot, please. You and Denver take turns. Houston, if you please?"

The two enormous shapes lumbered away. The Deeryak knelt, carefully lowering a hand to the ground, palm up. Avery swung on a finger into the palm and After a wary moment, Rufus grasped the rough hide of a digit and landed beside the Ferremole. As the hulking Deeryak stood and turned, she stumbled against Rufus.

"Oh!" Avery gave a self-depreciating chuckle. "Sorry."

"Enjoyed the moment," Rufus teased, rewarded by a strong waft of attraction and embarrassment.

Houston brought them directly to the mainframe console. Rufus glanced back to see Denver setting up what seemed to be a chess board, Kili directing the Gorrihare where to place pieces that seemed to be made of welded scrap metal. He turned back as their extemporaneous transportation swooped lower to allow them to step onto the console's desktop. With Avery and Rufus safely delivered to the mainframe terminal, he lumbered to a cabinet and pulled it open.

Rufus pulled up the HenchCo backdoor portal and logged in using his previous network protocol, this time finding a tethered tablet for his obfuscation. Houston returned with the EPROM unit and Rufus took the GPS chip and plugged it into the interface. Avery and Houston stood to the side, watching in fascination as the naked mole rat took advantage of the new access and hacked into the maintenance mainframe. He set the download to be as intrusive as he dared, with most details of the lair's infrastructure. He used the backdoor to access the security and entered a small routine that would allow him instantaneous access, then opened the firmware library, as well as the hidden library pass checker to allow for a few additional lines of code in the HenchCo communications bouy routine; given the large number of HenchCo technologies Gemini was using, he would be surprised if they weren't also using HenchCo's co-location stealth buoy. He then stood from the keyboard and stretched, cracking his back, and flinching at the twinge.

"Are you alright," Avery said, coming to his side from where she and Houston had been observing the chess match.

"Just... stiff, I suppose," he replied.

"Are you done?"

"Once the download completes, I'll compress the files into the right algorithm and then load what I can to the GPS chip. Probably be another three hours."

"Kili's garbage shift is in seven hours, so..." Avery sat at the edge of the desk. Rufus sat beside her, joining her in watching Kili move her knight.

"Plenty of time then," he finished for her. Avery nodded and they sat silent for a moment, before Avery spoke again.

"How long do you think your friends will respond?"

"Not long. Maybe another seven hours after transmission." Rufus paused. "Do you need to return to the room?" Avery nodded absently in response.

"We'll probably be here in the morning. Mother knows that I go to the lab sometimes. She thinks it's because I want to play with the others, so she won't be surprised if she doesn't find me."

"You're very resourceful."

"I watch. I listen." Avery ducked her head with a wry smile. "Humans are strange creatures."

"They are too intelligent for their own good," Rufus laughed. He sobered quickly. "Their hearts are very great, and can drive them to immense goodness or terrible evils. They say they work from the head, but really, it's their hearts they follow."

After a long moment, Avery nodded slowly. "That is why things get complicated."

"Complicated?"

"Something I read in one of Mother's books. It was when I was young she would leave me in the room when she was in the lab. Her cabinet has one drawer that is full of books and I read them all."

"On genetics?"

"Um...," Avery hesitated. "Romance."

"Ah, yes. Human mating rituals are very complicated." Rufus decided to spare Avery additional embarrassment. "So, you will not get in trouble for staying in the lab."

"No." The intermingled disappointment and relief was a palpable scent.

"Good."

"You'll need a place to hide, but with so many tubes and pipes and such in here, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Avery," Rufus said, his tone serious. The Ferremole turned her sparkling blue eyes towards him and he ignored the sudden light-headedness he felt at her regard. "I really appreciate this, truly." Avery nodded, and turned back to watching the chess match as it wound down to the last few pieces. She picked idly at her greyish silver fur.

"I," she paused, out of some personal confusion,"I confess that my motives aren't altruistic. It's because I do not wish any additional harm to my business." She gestured to the three hulking genetically altered animals before them as they teased each other companionably. "They have become my business, my... family, I suppose. I mean we all share the same genes, to an extent."

"The... same genes?" That caught Rufus's attention.

"I..." Avery blinked in surprise, then consternation. "I should not have said anything."

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. Please, continue."

"Well... that is... We all call... Danon 'Mother' for a very practical reason." Rufus stared at her for a long singular moment, before his eyes widened in realization.

"You're saying that you all have... DNAmy's... genes in you?"

"I wish you would not call her that," she sniffed. "Her motives may be odd and her methods unethical... but she has always cared for her children."

"I'm sorry. It's the name I've known her by since our first encounter with her. I believe she doesn't even go by Amy Hall anymore either."

"Amy Hall? I do not know this."

"It's the name she took when she married Marcus Hall, a pre-eminent biologist. They even published a few papers together, although she definitely produced more. Anyway, the marriage didn't last long; Dr. Hall was... known for having a wandering eye. Danon's obsession with genetic manipulation began around that time and exploded during the divorce proceedings several years after their marriage. Marcus was accused of marrying for money; Danon's parents were very rich French immigrants to the United States." Rufus paused, Avery watching him intently. He coughed. "It's all in her Global Justice file."

"Please, continue. This is extremely helpful in understanding Mother."

"Well, she moved all the assets off-shore, cut Marcus out of the will. But her loneliness drove her to find... or rather, create companions." Rufus suddenly blinked. "That's why you have human traits. All her creations do. Bipedal, human like intelligence. I'd wondered about that!"

"Yes. It makes it easier for us to be of help her, and for us to communicate with her and each other. But that is why I am helping you, Rufus. To help Mother, to help my business, my fesnyng. I do not trust this Gemini or his promises."

"I swear to you, Avery. I will help you as much as I can, without endangering the lives of my own family. I don't believe that our paths are incompatible. And I rather hope, the opposite."

"Well," Avery's whiskers twitched with humour. "I will hold you to that, Ser Medina."

As they watched Kili win the first match, and Houston take Denver's place as her opponent with some good natured taunts, Rufus jumped when Avery's paw curled around his own. After a moment, he gripped her claws firmly.

He grinned when she squeezed back.


	19. Chapter 19: Blood

A/N: WOW. I can't believe how long it took me to get over two of my computers dying and that's on top of my current addiction to Playstation Home! Well, chapter 19 is here! It's completely raw, so that means practically zero editing, and no betas. I guess betas don't really like me, haha, er... that's definitely not a good thing, huh? Well, let's get on with it then! Oh, and I'm using my tablet to load this, so there may be a LOT of problems, including spelling, grammar, and the fact that two thirds of the way through the document, ff.n ruins the display and I can't read anything or edit.

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_Interlude_

_The first time I ever saw that cheerleader, I knew I hated her. I wanted to put her down so bad, I could taste it. But fight after fight, plot after plot, busting out and being busted, the red-headed nuisance sorta grows on you, ya know? And like a yeast infection, it sneaks up on you until your hands are trembling so bad just from trying not to scratch down there._

_Not the most flattering analogy there, I grant you, but if the shoe fits, as they say..._

_But, ya know, I guess I really kind of admire that do it all, know it all attitude. Here's another one for you the pot calling the... ya know what, forget it. I'll just say this. There was no one else that could ever go toe-to-toe with me. Not that meathead Hego, not that monkey moron Monkey Fist, not even She-thing from outer space. Only Pumpkin ever had the will and the skill._

_So yeah, if ever there was anything I'd miss in this world?_

_It'd be Kim._

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_Shego's a one of a kind, you know?_

_She's resillient. I mean what other person could handle turning Hero to Villain and make it stick?_

_She's smart. She knows how to have a good time. She cares, even when she's carefree. I mean, she gave back her brothers' powers, even when she pretended to hate them. Yeah, I said pretend. I mean, isn't that one way to protect them? Make people think that she wouldn't care if they went after them? And some of those zingers._

_And the thing is, she still doesn't kill. I mean, what kind of evil is that?_

_I may admire Betty for where she is and what she's made, but Shego? I admire her for who she is. And how, even though she's turned a blind eye to who she really is, to protect the ones she loves, I can see it in her. The good she's buried. All wapped up in a too good to be true package._

_If she were a guy, I'd fall so hard for her, I'd leave skid marks._

_It's too bad I'm straight, huh?_

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**Blood and Bondage**

Chapter Nineteen: Blood

_by sweetPixiesmile_

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"...and if you inject a quantum waveform into the interstices, the crystalline structure generates a tertiary vibrational stable outflow of electrical magnetic energy that is exponentially greater than the initial injection, which can be siphoned to propagate the injection..."

The intake of breath reverberates loudly in the corridor as four darkened figures strode purposefully down its length.

"So what you're saying," grates the gravelly voice, "is the Leviathan is fully operational?"

"Rest assured, it will be ready; I haven't completed the safety checks, but it is definitively safe after the second test phase, and we really should complete the last phase just to..."

"So the Leviathan is operational then."

"All systems have been performing nominally. There haven't been any fluctuations on the grid or the engines since the first phase, but it hasn't done a full shakedown cruise for the navigational and tactical appliances..." the eager voice pauses before continuing, with less enthusiasm, "what is it that you aren't saying to me?"

"I have a feeling we may need to make the shakedown the maiden voyage as well. Do you think the Leviathan can handle that? I have the utmost confidence in your abilities, my dear, or I wouldn't suggest it."

A giggle of pleasure echoes up and down the long, darkened corridor.

"It will be ready! Um, in about twelve hours, that would be the optimal. Four hours for calibrations, additional equipment in case we need some large scale fabrication... six hours to load, another two for personnel. It will be ready, you may count on me!"

Quick, light footfalls echo the blonde woman disappears back the way they came. The squat one eyed figure turns and smiles toothily. The tall pair watch the gruesome grin with an almost placid disinterest.

"Load the assets and the Prismas." The squat form suddenly shudders. "Gah, this damned body... We may want to leave in a hurry."

"And the others?" the dark one asks.

The grin widens before Gemini turns and stalks away with a small chuckle. Tien and Dei share a quick look before following.

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Betty stood in the small and narrow preparation room, pulling at the strap of the new shoulder piece on her standard issued Global Justice combat armour, the dim light making it's pristine gleam glow from the protective plastic packaging sheet that she had pulled off a few minutes before. Behind her, Will Du licked his lips nervously, also dressed in a combat suit.

There hadn't been time to get the whole suit looked at, let alone calibrated; she'd have to stop by the armoury after the rescue mission. The connection from the arm to the computer hidden in the torso back-plate was digging into her shoulder, but that couldn't be helped. Betty pried a long narrow strip of poly-kevlon from the inside of her right forearm, an odd softly glowing film extending from the slot. She read the contents in the dull hum of the room before allowing the servos to retract.

"You have everything?"

"Yes, sir. I've got it on my flex-tab," he replied, tapping his own forearm.

"Let's go."

Will turned and opened the door.

Bright florescent light streamed into the small, short corridor. A cacophony of sound poured through the opened portal. Betty's face stiffened, a look Will had come to know well, and she stepped out, the thud of her combat boots absorbed by the swirling noise. The high vaulted hanger ceiling was criss-crossed with metal struts. Men in armour, sleeker and less bulky, rushed about purposefully. Vehicles rushed back and forth, swarming with fresh supplies and cargo crates around three large aquatic assault carriers. A truck pulled up to one as technicians scrambled around, unbuckling a large torpedo shaped submersible. Weapons pod racks were being removed and energy wave refracting armour plates were being replaced with smooth, seamless shells. Ten men and women stood in a loose group around a metallic table, similar to the War Chest, chatting good naturedly.

As they neared, with Will preceding, a short woman called out.

"Atten-hut!" The group immediately stood silently at attention.

Betty walked over to the table and stood before it.

"First of all, congratulations to Lieutenants Carstairs and Zelawei for their recent promotions. Much deserved and much needed." There was some smiling jibes and back slapping on a tall black woman and a shorter, stockier Caucasian man. "Now to business. As you well know, we've been in a triple alpha threat situation, ever since the attack on the Omega facility. That said, we've received reliable information on the location of the perpetrators and this is a dog that we all know very well. WEE." She ignored the glances the gathered officers shot at each other. "This operation has been code named Scramble. We'll be hitting a hard target in a hostile environment. The goal here is two fold. First we clear the hostages. That is top priority. The second objective is to capture Gemini and his inner circle."

"Speed. Precision. Surprise," Betty emphasized each word, her eye resting on each person. "These will be our watchwords for this operation. Full deep sea submarine shock load-out. Five stealth drones, three aquatic stealth carriers, two more to ferry hostages and captives. SHOCC for oversight. Assault code is Orpheus." Betty walked around the other side of the small War Chest. The air above the table flickered as Will brought up a three dimensional map. A small expanding orange circle lit the surface of an electric blue ocean. "Drop zones here, three miles out from target. We will immediately go to contour depth, some 3 miles down." The display slid under the holographic projection of the ocean surface and stopped at a tall outcropping marked in red and a large orange structure of four domes connected by a thick central column. "The target is near a field of black smoker hydro-thermal vents. S-Div indicates that standard communications will be near impossible due to the density of elements and water, so we will be using the new S-Div Asynchronous System for vehicular communications. Standard line of sight comms for assault squads to carriers. IFF on."

"We have a penetration team arriving at thirteen-oh-five. Their job is to secure the hostages and disable WEE's capability for an end-game gambit or a self-destruct. The bulk of our main force will strike at thirteen-one-five. The two hostage carriers will rendezvous with them here." There was a bright green circle on the third dome. "You can see there are four main pods. The top is transport and armoury. The second is residential. The third is the tech wing and the fourth is control. Once we have the hostages, it'll be standard issue aquatic ordinance. Ordinance code word is Pandora. Commander Du."

"Both Doctor Director and I will have mobile oversight from SHOCC. Doctor Director will coordinate the ground troops and I'll be directing the transports. Make sure you download your orders and team objectives. Included is a detailed schematic from our source, that's solid. The base was built in a new area formed from a recent transform that resulted in three volcanoes. The entire area is carpeted with black smokers, so visibility will be near zero. Note the route and the cross currents. The target is in the thermal shadow of the eastern volcano, nestled between two chimneys. In the event you lose hull integrity, if the pressure or the sea doesn't kill you, the temperature will." Will looked back at Betty.

"Make no mistake. WEE has recently escalated their standard load-out to lethal ordinance, and you will be in an extremely hazardous environment. Just follow hazardous environment protocol and you'll be fine. If Gemini pulls an end-game gambit, the evac code is Navaho." She looked around at the tense faces as the company and squad leaders began downloading their files from the war chest.

"Any questions?"

"Sir, who's the infil team?" Betty thought for a moment, dredging up her memory of the man. He was... new. Lieutenant Berman, an ex-Delta. No-nonsense. Strong need for justice. Great instincts.

"Team Possible and Yamanouchi comprises the infil."

"No disrespect, sir, but with the complications of this mission, they should leave this to the professionals." Betty didn't need to see Will's face to know his lips twitched into a wry smile.

"Team Possible has a track record that speaks for them. Yamanouchi has been our Pacific partner ever since World War Two and they have proven their worth time and again. Both teams are well versed in both soft and hard infils. They will be en route and they will be on time. We have to make sure that we are." Betty's eyes glanced at each face as she spoke, reading expressions and body language. Satisfied she turned back to Will. "Agent Du?"

"Priority one will be hostage rescue. Priority Two will be to subdue and capture the enemy. Team Possible and Yamanouchi will execute a covert infiltration. Yamanouchi's objective will be to discover and disable the self destruct; knowing Gemini, he will likely have a stand-alone system wired up to explosives throughout the base. Team Possible is to secure the hostages. Team one, your mission is to assist Team Possible in the safe and complete extraction of the hostages. Once completed, you will fall back to your carrier and reinforce as required. Team two, you will secure the armoury and transport dome. Team three, you will hit the Science dome. Access points are in your files."

"Any more questions?" Betty waited a moment. "Then let's get it done, people."

The lieutenants broke up, some stopping tot compare notes, others hurrying to their muster areas.

She watched with pride as the complex, chaotic ballet came together. It didn't matter that the casual observer might consider the activity haphazard. It was controlled chaos. Each individual in Global Justice knew their parts and played them extremely well. She knew, as the engineers were completing the shell transfer and carted the combat modules away, they were no more than twenty minutes away from go. Will stepped forward as she lifted her helmet, to her shoulder. He took the trailing wire and connected it to a dongle protruding over the left pauldron. An agent scurried up, waving a phone and called over the noise.

"Dr. Director! A call from headquarters, super-high priority!" Without turning, Betty slipped on her helmet, the reflective, bug-eyed half visor flickering, casting a faint glow across her face as the combat computer booted up. She breathed out forcefully as the plates hissed, closing the joint seals and tightening.

"We're twenty from Go."

"But-"

"You know protocol." Betty strode away, heading to one of the SHOCC assault hover carrier, leaving the nonplussed agent behind, Will at her heels. As she approached the boarding ladder, Will cleared his throat.

"You know it was the red phone," he said in a carefully neutral voice.

"I'd noted it." Will stayed silent and Betty sighed. "Will, why did you join Global Justice?"

"To make the world a better place, sir."

"Do you believe that I've violated that principal?"

"Not at all, sir."

"Then, let's get out there and do some good. I'll take the call when we get back." She depressed a button on just behind her cheekguard as she noted text that scrolled through her vision. "All units, Orpheus, I repeat Orpheus." She turned and without another word mounted the four steps into the hover assault carrier.

As Betty disappeared into the SHOCC, Will wondered if she'd get the chance.

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"I know. I'm really sorry, Stan," she said.

"When we heard about the trouble in Middleton, most of the squad wanted to drive over and see you," the concerned voice on the other side of the Kimmunicator said. "I told them to sit tight because I'd call you and find out what's what."

"It's... it's not good, Stan. Pretty bad. I can't really talk right now though. I'm in the middle of a mission..."

"Oh! Well, just wanted to let you know that we're pulling for you, Kim."

Kim dipped her head. "Thanks. Good luck on the invitational, and tell the team I'm sorry I can't make it. Oh, and tell Cherise not to be scared of Big Mike. He's just a big softie."

"No problem. And Kim? Good Luck."

"Thanks Stan. 'Bye." Kim sat back with a sigh.

"All done there, Pumpkin?" Kim turned her head, her body held immobile in the acceleration netting, and essayed a stilted smiled at the woman webbed in at her side the dark head bent close. She glanced down and saw Shego's hand near hers. She slowly, deliberately put her own on top.

"Yeah. With everything that's been going on, I totally forgot about the invitational next week, so I figured I should call the captain." The woman nodded.

"Good. You need your head in the game on this one, Cupcake. You can't get distracted."

"I know."

When the call had come in from Wade that he had heard from Rufus, a wave of relief commingled with fear had swept through her. Relief that she could find her parents. Fear at what she might find. But when she had arrived at the hidden GJ tarmac in Middleton with Shego in tow, the boy genius had wordlessly handed over two black suitcases. One went to Ron, the other to Shego. Having seen the case before, Ron had made an excited exclamation, at which Shego had raised an eyebrow. The surprise on the pale woman's face as she opened her own case and looked at the contents inside tickled something inside her.

When the woman had raised the black, green trimmed cloth out of the case, she was speechless. Ron was doffing his clothing and seemed reluctant to shed his boxers. Kim herself was already down to her birthday suit and was pulling on her battlesuit. Ron did the same, pulling on a black suit with red trim. Shego's hesitation lasted so briefly that Kim was sure she'd been the only one to see it. Kim's eye lingered when the woman unhooked her bra, and she glanced at Ron, who was thanking Wade... who was the one doing the staring. Kim smiled wryly at herself for the sudden surge of jealousy, but she couldn't blame the computer genius for appreciating the same thing she did.

The three of them stood on the tarmac, surrounded by Hirotaka and the Yamanouchi ninjas. Ron's suit had a red utility belt and a shoulder harness for the Lotus blade. Shego's was closer to Kim's, but had a light green ankle pouch, into which the woman deposited several small tools pulled from hiding places on the old catsuit. The woman turned around and caught Kim staring, but threw her a smirk and a hip-bump instead of the expected fist. Kim blinked, blushing, but allowed herself a Cheshire grin.

She had grinned all the way up the ramp into the troop compartment.

Ron looked at his best friend since pre-kindergarten, her head so close to the ex-villainess', the hair touched, chatting with an ease he'd never thought to see besides with him, and wondered what was wrong with him. He'd seen all the movies, where ex-girlfriends or boyfriends would burn with jealousy over someone showing interest in past loves. It wasn't that he wasn't feeling something, but instead of jealousy it felt more like sadness inside him. He had never felt quite right with Kim, even though she was now a beautifully alluring woman. He knew she needed him, but not in the way that he could provide her, not anymore.

Beside him was Hirotaka. He could still feel the occasional blood-lust from the ninja warrior, but each flare was quickly dampened, like shuttering a lantern. So Yono had taken his mystical monkey mojo. Well, so what? There were people who depended on him, and he hadn't been able to step up then, even when he'd had the monkey mojo working for him. The truth be told, he was scared of what he could do if the mystical monkey powers came on him in full force again. Kim was a reminder to him of what could happen. He had felt back then that he had failed Kim by killing. But with the terse coded message from Rufus, along with Gemini's base schematics, the knowledge that Yori was still alive burned like a brand inside him; he hadn't failed her. He was determined that it would never happen.

He felt mostly numb. There had been too many enormous shocks for him to process in too short a time. Yori taken. Sensei killed. Nana decapitated. Rufus deep in enemy territory. Yamanouchi in shambles. And then to hear from Kim, who'd tearfully hugged him and cried, that both Doctors Possible had been kidnapped, along with a severely injured Drakken... it was like cold ice being piled on top of him.

He had been so relieved when Wade had finally called with news that he'd received a transmission from Rufus. And that his second best pal had found the kunoichi... he couldn't help but let out a bone shaking "booyah," before embarrassingly avoiding Kim's curious stare.

He hadn't figured out what Yori was to him. It wasn't that comfortable ease that he felt with Kim or that near bromance with monster truck Monique. Or even the brother-from-another-mother feeling with Felix, even if it centred on mostly guy stuff. Although strangely they never really seemed to talk about girls, the way Ron had heard other guys did, with such casual objectification...

Where was he going with this? Oh, right, Yori. There was something about the kunoichi that, for lack of another metaphor, seemed to call to him. Which sort of puzzled him, since she still seemed convinced that Kim was _his_ destiny. Ron shook his head. Ninja chicks.

Hirotaka spent the entire trip contemplating Ron's role in Yori's capture and trying to find some flaw, some fault that would lay absolute and incontestable blame on the blonde fool. Yet try as he might, he could not. Especially with Yono involved. In his travels, Hirotaka had heard many rumours and stories about Tai Sheng Pek Kwar and the master who taught it to Toshiro, the founder of Yamanouchi. A figure shrouded in mystery, myth, like the near mystical Tengu of ancient Japan. The Tengu were masters of deception and martial arts, and were reputed to have taught the most famous of masters. The only thing clear was that Yono was somehow inextricably tied to the Lotus Blade and all things monkey.

Which was the only reason why Ron was carrying the blade with him now; it was one of the last bequeathments Dai Sensei had given before the battle that had resulted in his death, and as grudgingly as he was to admit it, the youth was uncommonly adept at using it. Hiro tamped down the surge of jealousy and anger once again.

He was curious why a Tengu would disguise himself as an ape. His thoughts cycled back to the blonde man sitting beside him and his own fear, guilt and shame welled up in him, stoking the rage that he quickly clamped down his will upon. Now was not the time for his disturbed spirit to distract him from their goal. Yamanouchi had the honour of accompanying Team Possible on a preemptive strike against the ones that had attacked and destroyed the school's training facility if not its spirit. It was their honour to be counted in the vanguard.

He glanced at the ten men and women ensconced in the latest atmospheric suits built to provide the best long term deep dive protection and smiled proudly. They were his sempai, his brethren. They had been ranged around the globe short hours ago and were the only ninja that could assemble in Middleton within the small window of time the operation required. Some weren't even field agents but they were ready to lay down their lives to restore honour to the name of Yamanouchi and had answered his call. They were sworn to combat the suffering and greed that self-centrism brought about, with steadfastness, sacrifice and selflessness. It would be their honour to complete their tasks today.

And when their calling had been fulfilled and their honour restored, the long arduous task of rebuilding Yamanouchi would commence.

Hirotaka's gaze wandered to the green woman whose head was leaned in close to Possible-san's and he mentally shook his head. He had heard about this woman, this Shego from his masters. She had secret and extensive training, but from whom, and where, they had no idea. She was reputed to be a criminal; that meant little to Hirotaka. Many heroes in the histories had been marked the same way, since being a hero would sometimes mean going against the status quo, the decadent or corrupt rulers of the land. Knowing what was at stake here, he was unsure of the strange and twisted path that led to Possible-san's choice of Shego as her battle partner, yet she had insisted, prevailing on Doctor Director to send the woman out. Times certainly were interesting; how true that the saying was a curse and not a blessing.

Shego's eyes never left Kim's face; even so, she could feel the eyes of the others in the troop section resting occasionally them. She might have cared years ago, when she needed to make a name for herself. But now, years later, she knew better; or, she thought she did at least.

"The squad's really committed, you know? They take everything so much more seriously. In Middleton, you always had to know which girls to goad, which needed a soft touch, which needed a challenge. But in this one, every girl, every guy is in like at least an hour or two a day. Some even three or four."

The thing was, she didn't even know what had happened. Her life seemed to be one huge roller-coaster since that night in the Fiske auditorium. Before that night, the future had fallen into a big fat rut; she was doing what she'd been doing even before the pardon, which was practically zilch. Keeping people from jacking Dr. D's shit, or so she told herself. The truth was nothing of the sort.

She had been running scared and just couldn't figure out where she wanted to go or how.

And then Kim re-entered her life.

With a killer line to match her killer body. Kim had gone from cute high school senior (yeah, what, so she did think of the girl as cute back then, deal with it) into a realm that few had ever reached, a kind of ephemeral quality that spoke of eloquence and poise, and yet was infinitely accessible and engaging. It was a quality that wasn't attainable by just anybody. Right, conventional beauty, that was the term. Definitely not Kim, she'd gone beyond that.

Being with her, being near her, it drew her, haunted her. Like an addiction.

The intercom near Kim squawked.

"Ten minutes to target, repeat, one-zero minutes to target. Entering hot-zone. Acknowledge."

"Ten to target, entering hot-zone, acknowledged," Kim said, depressing the talk button. Before she could turn back to Shego, the intercom squawked again.

"Turbulence! Brace for turbulence!"

With barely a breath's time, the carrier pitched upward, then yawed sideways.

Her heart was hammering as she felt the assault pod twisted and jerked, riding the violent flows of super heated liquid thermals push the submarine fitted pod. Rather than fight the currents, the pilots were letting the hot water have its way while using the momentum generated. Sadly, it made for a very tense and violent ride for the occupants. Kim could feel her adrenaline surging with each manoeuvre of that violent ballet.

She'd always hated taking submarines. You couldn't see where you were going, you couldn't tell where you were and you were always under threat of the intense water pressure. But it wasn't the mode of transport or the high-risk environment that was the cause of her discomfort. It was the feeling of helplessness that it brought about. Even at this depth, the battlesuit would only last a few hours, and without being a fortified deep-sea rebreather atmos suit like the Yamanouchi ninjas were using, a grape had more chance of survival against a hammer than a person with 6 metric tons of water above them. Besides, she liked to be able to see where she was going; it afforded her time to study her destination and form ideas about where the most likely escape routes could be found.

Kim glanced at Ron. He looked less like her goofy best friend. She couldn't put her finger on change, more serious; the Lotus blade was webbed in beside the uncharacteristically quiet blond. Shego, on the other hand, looked great in her new battlesuit, she had to admit. The woman's sarcastic smile was fascinating, a subtle gleaming hint of her teeth between her full, black lips. Kim realized her hand was still on her black gloved hand, and gave it a squeeze. The ex-villainess turned to look at her and they shared a wide grin. The pod barely stabilized before the intercom crackled again.

"Approaching target. T minus one eight zero. Acknowledge, over."

"T minus one eight zero, acknowledged, over."

"Godspeed. Rigging for silent running. Over and out."

In those few seconds, the Yamanouchi ninjas had slipped into their atmos suits, something similar to the battle suits; they were bulkier, like the Centurion Project Kim had saved one Halloween a long time ago. One of Yamanouchi's subsidiaries had funded the project; Kim's inadvertent use of the nanotechnology suit had provided the field test that had been delayed for want of an American permit.

Three men in Global Justice jumpsuits entered the bay, closing the hatch behind them. The slightly older man came close to them, gripping the railing, motioning to Kim and Shego as they unhooked their acceleration web harnesses. They carefully made their way holding tightly to the bars that ran around the outer walls of the compartment as the assault pod continued to pitch and heave. Kim grunted softly as the assault pod lurched again.

"Miss Possible, Miss Shego, Chief of Boat McNair. If you'd follow me?" He continued as they went around the bay, heading towards a sealed cylinder that rose from the floor. "You're doing the stealth drop into the science pod of the complex? We're going to use the Rapid Assault Insertion Device."

"RAID?" Shego snickered.

"Indeed," the COB grinned in return.

The two ensigns had made their way to a hatch topped cylinder. One stood by a control p[anel set into the nearest wall as the other stood by the cylinder. They both waved a salute as they apporached. On the side to the assault pod's RAID was a logo, a design of Wade Enterprises. Behind them, the hissing of the atmos suits locking and sealing punctuated the relative silence.

"When that lights up," he said to them as they approached, pointing to a yellow coloured siren, "Ensign Hepstadtler will extend the RAID. Once the assault pipe is in place, sealed and pressurized, the molecular bond manipulator, or MoBoM, will cut open the science pod's outer shell. Ensign Andersson will operate the hatch. After you pass through, the MoBoM will re-bond the shell, so there's no way out. You'll have to join the others at the evac site to get out. Clear?"

Kim glanced at the other end of the carrier, her eyes meeting familiar blue ones. Ron gave her a reassuring smile and a thumbs up before the battlesuit activated the full helmet. He was going to be heading out of the pressurized diving bay with the rest of the ninjas. Kim frowned. The stakes were so high on this mission, she wished Ron was at her side, along with Shego, but Yamanouchi would need a member of Team Possible. She turned to Shego, who looked deep into her eyes.

"Let's go save your parents, Kim." She nodded.

"Clear, and ready."

Within a few tense moments, they could feel the turbulence subside as it entered the shadow of the underwater lair, assault carrier slewing around and stopping. The proximity indicator that Chief McNair had shown them lit up. Kim glanced again at Shego, who stood at her shoulder, a feral grin on her face. She looked up as if physically drawn to Kim's own gaze.

Hepstadtler began manipulating two joysticks, the hatch vibrating minutely as the gears extended the transfer tunnel. A yellow light on his controls lit and he pressed a spring-loaded button. After a moment, the light turned green.

Andersson threw the switch and the hatch opened with a slight hiss. Down below was a square tunnel, a chimney-like embellical that attached the assault carrier to the dull grey sidewall of the science pod. Down one side was an extendable ladder. At the end, a small brightly lit cylinder was tracing along a metal ring counter-clockwise; that was the molecular bond manipulator slicing through the hull. There was a dull snap as the bonder completed its circuit and a hydraulic arm raised the removed section, exposing a dimly lit interior. The ladder began to descend. Kim took a deep breath, climbed onto the ladder and slid down into the darkness. There was a slight drop of two feet at the bottom. Kim landed on he feet with a soft thud in the darkness of the end of the corridor. A moment after she moved away to peer around the corner, Shego landed, silent as a whisper. The ladder retracted and there was a soft snap as the piece of the underwater lair's shell was replaced and re-bonded.

This was a maintenance end of the corridor, with a small sliding hatch at the dead end behind them. The walls were a uniform gunmetal grey, with harsh overhead caged lights every ten yards.

A dark blue visor stretched from the earpiece across her eyes and Kim poked her finger around the corner, a tiny lens on the tip. The image on her visor was crystal clear, flickering through an array of visual displays. Infrared, thermal, magnetic, electrical, pheromone, air current, chemical. Nothing came up. Good.

Kim turned back to Shego as the visor retracted, who stood waiting patiently. Kim swiped her hand across the inside of her left wrist, then described a specified pattern, punctuating it by a light tap and a three dimensional haze coalesced, floating in the air before her. With a few finger swipes, a dim, electric blue hologram appeared, and the index and middle fingers glow softly. A small red dot appeared, labelled "You are here." A series of areas were marked yellow, red and blue. The image flickered a few times as the suit pulsated slightly, the resonance scanning completing and the image updating. A few white dots appeared, quickly revolving around the external view of the four, alternating stacked domes that were attached to the main support vertical column. The four domes were clearly marked, Ordinance, Habitat, Science and Control.

"Can you hear me?" Kim sub-vocalized. Almond eyes amused, the pale woman snorted, folding her arms under her breasts and looked back with an upraised eyebrow. She gave a tight-lipped smile at the woman's response. "Alright." The blue are the assault points that Global Justice was to use when they arrived. The white dots moved on the outside of the large underwater complex were the Yamanouchi operatives removing Gemini's self-destruct bombs. Kim inserted her two glowing index fingers into the floating image and dragged them apart, centring on the science dome. The image enlarged until an icon appeared, which Kim touched with her index and middle fingers of her left hand. The image then rotated and levelled out, turning into a schematic of a floor plan. "We want to be here." Kim jabbed the two lit fingers at an H shaped room which turned green. She then quickly traced a red line from the red dot to the green area. "Good?" Kim asked, looking up.

The ex-thief studied the route the hero had indicated, then pointed at a the route and traced a different route. Avoiding more yellow and red areas than her first attempt. Kim nodded, drawing in a shuddering breath.

She looked up as a hand landed softly on her shoulder, the look in those softly glowing eyes somehow reassuring. Kim gave a tremulous smile and the ex-villainess stepped close and whispered in her ear.

"Don't worry Kim, we'll find them." The red-head nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Shego leaned back and looked into her eyes again, causing a small flutter in her stomach, before turning and sprinting away. Kim followed the woman closely, watching her every move, racing from shadow to shadow in the harsh dim light of deep water LEDs, gliding silently along the lengths of pipes and metallic shunts of all sizes. They could hear the heavy tread of booted feet stomping with mechanical precision, accompanied with a spattering of asynchronous patter of other hurried footfalls, punctuated by the indistinct call of voices.

Shego suddenly stopped ten feet from the next intersection and motioned Kim back, into the shadowed recesses of a maintenance panel. Two men in purple hurried into their corridor, zipping into another near them. They were pushing a maglev cargo sled with hastily piled equipment sitting haphazardly on the flatbed.

Kim glanced over to Shego and caught the brief frown as they emerged from the shadows.

"I think we need to hurry," Shego spoke for the first time they had arrived. Kim nodded with a nervous jerk, her feeling of dread growing at the woman's measured tone.

They moved as quickly as they could, trying to keep quiet, the clang of their heels sounding thunderous to their ears. The closer they pressed towards the lab where Rufus had indicated that they would find the missing scientists, the more activity they witnessed.

At one point, Shego hissed sharply between her teeth and without pause vaulted up to grasp a pipe, swinging her legs wide and bracing her body against the piping, her back flat against the ceiling. Kim scrambled backward into the corridor they had just exited, pressing herself hard against the cold metal wall.

Three men in Orange jumpsuits came scrambling out of a door, pushing more equipment laden maglev cargo sleds.

"What's the time?" one asked.

"We're twenty outside of zero hour," another replied.

"What about the assets?"

"Green's taking care of it."

"Poor bastards."

"Yep."

Their voices faded as they rushed past Kim, not even glancing at her as they passed within inches.

Kim's head was pounding, she felt as if she couldn't breath. As the voices faded she burst around the corner. Shego executed a perfect, whisper quiet four point landing. Kim ran, silence forgotten in the clutches of fear. They were close, so close, maybe only two, three corridors away.

And then they heard the shooting.

A shudder of dread to ran its way from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. Kim broke out into a sprint, heedless of Shego's hand. The ex-villainess kept pace, worried at the blank, pale terror on Kim's face, who was dimly aware of the woman speaking into her communicator.

"Shots, fired, repeat shots fired. Relay to Mother, repeat, relay to mother: hens are flying the coop, repeat, hens are flying the coop. Foxes are still dark, but hens are flying the coop in twenty, repeat, two-zero."

"Acknowledged, will relay," came an accented voice, one of the Yamanouchi.

"Shego, keep an eye on Kim, we're still working on three blast pods!" That was Ron.

The words meant nothing to her. The gunfire continued to echo past, the sharp reports increasingly sporadic.

She ran.

Left. Straight for thirty feet. Right, Ten feet. Left again. To the right, twenty feet. The sudden, dreadful quiet.

There were no more shots.

Just as she arrived at the door, it slid open to reveal several green suited men holding assault rifles. And beyond them, she could see a brightly lit charnel house of white suited victims.

Kim was familiar with death. In her rescues, she'd saved countless numbers of people, but had also seen those she had been too late, humanly, impossibly late to save. She could see those blank, vacant gazes, but this time, in her mind's eye, coming from the slack, cold faces of her parents.

Her vision tightened in a sudden adrenaline explosion.

Kim growled, a deep feral sound reverberating low in her chest, visceral and menacing. Her first battlesuit powered, emotionally charged punch impacted the man's mandible so hard that it shattered and dislocated simultaneously, one end protruding from the other side of his face, spinning him side-wise. She stepped forward, her second punch accompanied with the sound of cracking ribs. The third punch landed neatly on the man's breastbone, another sharp muffled crack. A kick lasered straight up, the man's head impacting the pristine white and brightly lit ceiling with a sickening crack. She flowed into an axe kick and turning reverse roundhouse combination that caused the last man to bounce off the floor, then as the second kick landed, he ricocheted off the heavy industrial table edge, careening into the wall fifteen feet behind him and rebounding another three feet before flopping to the ground.

Kim stared at the bodies of the executed scientists, the white lab coats splattered with a horrifying patina of red.

So much blood.

"Mom, Dad!" Her voice was a hysterical screech, but she didn't care. She had to find her parents.

Before she knew what she was doing, Kim was frantically rushing, stumbling over the red splattered lab coats, looking, searching. She went down one aisle between tables stripped of equipment, loose wires and discarded power cables strewn haphazardly.

"Mom, Dad!" She called as she cast about desperately, looking for the telltale bright red hair, the greying shock of brown, dashing through an adjoining hallway to another room, the floor also littered with dead bodies. As she came around full circle, Shego caught her hands gripping her upper arms.

"Kim, listen!"

"Shego-" She struggled, trying to push past her but the superpowered woman's grip held firm and shook her.

"They're not here Kim," the woman's worried eyes stared deep into hers. "They've been taken to the Leviathan, some sort of submarine."

Kim stared at her for a moment, her mouth open, gazing almost uncomprehendingly, as the relief flooded her stricken heart. She closed her mouth with a snap and licked her lips.

"Show me." Kim brought up the three dimensional holographic map once again. Shego dragged over the guard with the crushed chest and Kim felt a pang of guilt, seeing the laboured breathing, the blood that trickled from his lips.

"Where is it," Shego shook the henchman, one of her fingers fiercely lit, the heat emanating from the tip so intense Kim could feel it from where she stood. The man fearfully jabbed a finger at a maintenance tunnel seven corridors away. It ended at the external shell of the dome on the schematic.

"Corridor," he gasped. "Not... on plans..."

And with that, Kim was off like a bullet, wrenching at the door when it didn't slide open fast enough, warping the metal and jamming it halfway.

"Kim!" Shego sprinted after her, trying to keep the red-head in sight. "Eggs cracked, I repeat eggs cracked and scrambled, but targets have flown the coop, I repeat, eggs cracked but targets have flown the coop. In pursuit, we are in pursuit." And then no more talking as she tried to keep up with the rapidly disappearing girl.

Neither noticed the wriggling eyeball that dropped from the back of the neck of the man with the crushed chest that shrivelled and quickly crumbled to dust.

Or the sickly grin that played across his face as they disappeared from sight.


	20. Chapter 20: Bondage

_Interlude the final_

_I thought my life was perfect._

_I had two unconditionally loving parents. I had a committed and sensitive boyfriend who not only was the Homecoming King but the star running back, winner of the coveted Ron Eng award. I graduated from high school with honours and was well on my way to a fast-tracked double-degree at one of the most prestigious colleges in the country._

_So why was I so unhappy?_

_I didn't know myself because... well, I didn't _know_ myself._

_I hit college and was slapped in the face with a pretty good dose of real life. People didn't care who I was, only what I could do for them. The Dean caused all sorts of rubbish nonsense when I ran out of his pet philosophy class to save the world. Water under the bridge; that stuff's over... but the scars are still there. And suddenly, I realized, I didn't know who I was._

_I'd been known as the girl who could do anything for so long that I never stopped to wonder what it was that I wanted to do. I felt cornered, trapped by my own ego and the expectations of others. I felt a stranger to myself, suddenly, for once. I was on my own, facing competing philosophies of people who didn't have an inkling of empathy or compassion, treating others as simply a bit-player in their own ego-centric sitcom... and I began to wonder, what if they were right? Was I suffering from a messiah complex? Was I just a puppet to the whims of others? Was I being used and exploited?_

_I was so absorbed in denying these questions that in my blind optimism, I didn't even realize my boyfriend was having troubles of his own. And I thought I could fix it if I gave up my V card. The girl who could do anything could also do dumb._

_In some way, I guess I deserve what's happened. I needed time to myself and I needed time to think. I needed time to... come to grips with, well, myself. To know who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do._

_It's taken a while, but right now, there's only one thing, well, _person_... the girl who can do anything wants._

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_I thought my life was locked-down._

_I was making millions in a cushy job that had me doing the least amount of work, and gave me the excuse to steal stuff or beat the crap out of people. I was welcome in the most exclusive clubs and celebrity hot spots. I was as exclusive as the word could get. I was on top of the world... and had no where to go._

_In those lonely nights in the lair, after activating the fifty-six security features in my room and lying on the black satin sheets on my king-sized bed, in the dark, I could admit the truth._

_I was trapped. Trapped by my choices, trapped by my foibles. I had nowhere to turn, no place to call home. I had hit the pinnacle of everything I'd ever wanted but it felt pyrrhic. I could have anyone, and I meant _anyone_ to warm my bed,... but my heart was still lost, lost and alone. I thought no one could reach me, nothing could tame the wilderness of me, that no one could or would ever understand... the things I'd done, or give me a second chance._

_Boy was I glad to find out I was wrong._

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**Chapter Twenty: Bondage**

**Blood and Bondage**

**by sweetPixiesmile**

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Ron swam as hard as he could, the oxygen gauge on his face plate still a comforting transparent neon green. He glanced back to reassure himself that the Yamanouchi ninja had followed his direction and allowed himself a self depreciating smile at his own hypocrisy; he was the one not following orders. Team Possible had always been at its best thinking on their feet in the field. But then, Kim had always been his role model, and the heroine had always told him that he needed to trust his instincts more. It was he advice that now had him swimming into the veritable jaws of danger. Water that could boil him to the bone in a matter of seconds, if the pressure didn't turn him into minced meat in the first place. Six miles underwater was no place to get excited or scared, and Ron was engaged in death-match wrestling bout with both. For some reason, his heart kept telling him that he needed to head down towards the Science pod. His mind told him that he was crazy.

The rising clouds of metal and dirt boiled up from tall tubes of solidified minerals, obscuring his vision. He continued to make his way down the main structural pylon that held the different pods of the lair together and also housed the cargo and personnel elevators. Trying to stay calm as a soft chime pinged in his battlesuit's helmet, Ron fluttered fins attached his feet, keeping his hand close to the lair's outside wall, crawling along the metal shell. The pressure of the water that had been blowing against him lightened and he relaxed, thinking he had crawled into a sheltering shadow.

There was an unexpected shift in the water around him and a sudden current hit him in the shoulders, tearing him away and down into the murky, terrifying blackness below. He tumbled, panic rising as he was was pulled along, a small insignificant piece of jetsam pulled along by the monstrous power of the thermal cross-current. An intersecting cross current jerked him side-wise snatching him as if in a colossal game from the grip of the first and hurled him further. Up, down, left and right fled from his gibbering mind, completely losing any sense of direction in the murky blackness. His pulse hammered in his ears. His breath wheezed from between his clenched teeth. He was going to die.

He was going to die.

But in his mind's eye he saw an image, one that he did not expect. Without a second thought, he curled up, ignoring his disorienting trajectory, gripping his legs tightly, his knees hard against his face plate, into as tight a ball as he possible could force his trembling muscles. He could feel the pressure on him lessen, the super heated water sluicing around him and he cried out as he struck something, a sharp blinding smack near his left kidney. Somehow, and Ron couldn't even understand how he'd accomplished it, his hands shot out to grab a hold of whatever it was he'd run into, the red trim on his suit sparkling a deep crimson hue as the suit transferred power to the microscopic servos that helped solidify his grip. After what seemed an interminable amount of time, the thermal current eased.

As the pressure lifted, his body drifted, buoyed by the super heated water around him. He kept gasping, his pulse pounding in his ears as he realized he was safe for the moment. He took a moment to run through a meditation that Yori had taught him.

Yori! Even now he didn't know why it was her face that came to mind when he thought that he was going to die. He forced the panic and terror down. He needed to be strong now. He needed to do the extraordinary, even without the mystical monkey mojo backing him up. The training that Master Sensei had put him through will finally pay off. He didn't know what the kind old man had been guiding him to, but he was just as determined to find out as he was to find Yori.

"Uh, guys?" Ron gasped out.

No response. He couldn't twist around; his back hurt too much. He reached around his body, his questing fingers touching his utility belt, his fingers touching the sharp corners of cracked and broken shards of a small tiny box fixed to his red utility belt.

"Aw man!" He slowly spun himself, moving his hands in the figure eights that Kim had taught him when they were just six. She had done it because she was already going for her first adult levels and Ron was still stuck with the kids; she wanted her friend to keep her company as she pushed through the child levels and into programs that teens still struggled with. Pain shot through his back with every movement, but was starting to numb from the constant sensory barrage that wracked him as his body adjusted. He paused to take give himself a quick once-over. Oxygen levels now at forty percent. Power was still at an amazing eighty percent. He'd have to get to a more secure location before he could run the suit's status and repair functions.

He looked up and grimaced at the dark above him. Had he travelled so far that he couldn't see the lair anymore? He couldn't see anything, and his heart rate rose again. Even as a child he'd been afraid of the dark, but really it was fear of the unknown. Years of being Kim Possible's sidekick had taught him that shadows were no more scary than the henchmen or spinning tops of doom that lurked within, but now, here in an environment so foreign and so dangerous, the old fears were resurfacing, like so many other things.

_You can take the buffoon out of the sitch but you couldn't take the sitch out of the … never mind. No time to be wandering._ He turned on a light on the side of his helmet but with no result. He then looked at the obstacle that he'd run into, slowly rotating, and his eyes widened.

He had run into some sort of metal pole. A sharp dent skewed the entire assembly to the side. Ron considered. Something manufactured meant that it had to be attached to something else. He turned off his light to conserve power and, hand over hand, he made his way painfully in one direction, the pain in his back shooting spikes down into the sole of his feet with each movement. He wasn't even sure which way was up at this point, but was gratified to see the circumference thickening. A good sign.

He kept his pace up, trying not to breath too hard. He bit back a yelp when his head jammed into something rock hard, nearly jarring him loose from the metal pole. He shook his head, turned on his helmet lamp and turned upwards. What he saw made him gasp in relief. It was the smooth shell of something, the welded panels stretching beyond the range of his light. He put his hand on the hull.

He ran a hand across his right forearm as he'd seen Kim do on her own battlesuit; a red keyboard glowed on his suit in response. He pressed the status button and a display came up on his face plate. A paired schematic of a human shape appeared. One of the shapes, marked with the text "BACK" had a large red area on the torso, with a pop-up box beside it that read "SQUIRT Communications Array Offline."

_Great. Could anything get worse?_

At that moment, a panel opened with a bone jarring twenty feet in front of him opened, light spilling out, and three heavily suited orange figures festooned with lights climbed out. They all held large, long shapes that ended with barrels. Ron sighed.

_Me and my big mouth. Gotta stop sticking my foot in it._

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The ride was turbulent, but not the worst that Will had ever experienced. Designed to withstand the herculean forces of solar winds, gravity exit velocities and the ultimate pressures of vacuum, the SHOCC pitched and yawed without a single groan of protest.

He studied the hologram before him hovering over a portable version of the war chest, watching as the five carriers represented by blue triangles made their way through what looked like an oddly shaped shifting copse of glowing crimson trees, slipping past the billowing and boiling chimneys that spewed magma heated water, blackened by minerals and sediment.

Betty was slouched in her relaxed thinking position; to anyone who didn't know her, they would have assumed she was asleep, like a warrior at rest, awaiting the call to arms. Will knew better. Although her body was composed, the woman's mind would be racing through scenario upon scenario and considering, evaluating and discarding possible responses.

The squad leaders expected stiff resistance, given the combat reports from the Omega Facility attack and the zombie like state the henchmen had exhibited, all with identical wounds to the back of their necks.

The carriers were moving into position. Will checked his chronometer.

This was going to be an extremely high-risk venture, and the two hundred things that could go wrong in his analysis had kept him reaching for meditative exercises he'd learned long ago as a child in the forests of Vietnam. He swore he could still taste the stinking salty tang that fateful day as he listened closely to his grandfather's soft, whispered instructions, moving in slow sweeping motions as he smoothed the dirt covering the antiquated bouncing-Betty, eyes wide, ears straining for the silent Khmer terror squads.

"Sir," said one of the operators, "we have confirmation that the end game gambit has been deactivated. The hostages are not in hand. Infil team reports that the majority have already been executed, with key targets now in transit." The man hesitated. "I think they said Team Possible is in pursuit."

_Shit._ The mission was already taking a turn for the worse, if the civilian body count had already spiked without there being any formal engagement. That was going to be additional fodder for the United Nations oversight committee, Will thought to himself.

"Tell Yamanouchi to rendezvous with the assault squads as planned."

"Sir," the man acknowledged.

"All squads. Pandora, ordinance code Pandora." Betty raised her head as she spoke, staring across the war chest with an unreadable expression, her eye hidden by the the combat visor. "Acknowledge."

Will licked his lips as the strike teams radioed in their acquiescence. Betty had just authorized the use of lethal force. He would have advised against having two modes of ordinance, since it meant the standard load-out would at worst be cut by half, lethal to non-lethal. He knew it would mean the agents would opt to carry extra ammunition, slowing them, and potentially confusing clips; in the heat of battle, it could be the difference between life and death. But given the situation, he was glad he hadn't pressed his point prior to the briefing. He stared at the clock, the seconds ticking away and cleared his throat as the clock flipped to thirteen-one-five before thumbing the general channel.

"Orpheus, I repeat, Orpheus."

The blue triangles swooped in.

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"My babies," wailed the portly woman as the Orange jump-suited men guided her gently but firmly through the airlock. Avery clutched Amy's hair, steadying herself from her perch on the woman's shoulder, but her attention wasn't on the sobbing woman or the Orange Prisma agents, but on a certain naked someone. A someone who had shadowed her Mother and herself as they had been escorted inexorably to the waiting submarine.

Rufus was torn. He could sense the presence of his friend and master, like a tickling of air along his sensing hairs. But seeing Avery being taken from the lair, from him, into a place where he couldn't know her fate... the agony was written on his tiny, wrinkled face. With a single backward glance, he made his decision.

Timing his jump, he leaped onto a cargo sled as it passed him, and he slipped unnoticed between the crates. He turned a mournful eye back as the sled slipped into the airlock, but when he turned back, he could see the profound relief and trepidation that trembled in the Ferremole's tentative, grateful smile.

Ron would understand.

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Shego could barely keep up with the speeding red-head as the girl sprinted, trailing a sparkling trail of blue neon as the battlesuit added power, following the path the green coloured henchman had indicated. She wanted to hug the speedy cheerleader, or get the girl to calm down and calling to the teen hero had not elicited a response. And that was when she heard the sharp staccato of gunfire. GJ was beginning their assault right on schedule. It was Team Possible that was behind on their timetable. Not good, she grimaced. If she was to catch up to Kim, she'd have to do... that. Without another through she threw herself forward into a low crouch.

Plasma flared from her feet with each stride, a sharp report echoing into the nightmarish twist of pipe lined corridors. She was using her ability to generate plasma from any part of her body. In this instance, it was a sharp thermal spike that generated a concussive force to propel her faster. She began a long legged loping stride, her comet powered muscles bunching and flexing. Her head just cleared the cramped corridor's ceiling and in a few concussive steps, as Kim ran full tilt around a corner, the ex-villainess bounced off the wall and reached the girl's side.

"Kim," she shouted as her hand clamped down on the panicked hero's shoulder, swinging the redhead around. The pale, tear streaked visage that greeted her, and a sudden overlayed remembrance of jet black hair and lovely almond shaped, chestnut coloured eyes superimposed itself over the the blazing sea foam. Kim slipped loose of her grasp as the dark haired woman shook herself to dispel the illusion.

Shego cursed and lunged after the woman.

In another few steps, she caught up to Kim again, who had stopped at the spot where the schematic ended in Wade's map. There was dimly lit corridor that ran far enough that they couldn't see the end as it curved down and to the left.

"Kim, be careful!" Shego said, putting her hand on the girl's trembling arm. The redhead shrugged her off and sprinted down the corridor. Another whisper of memory wafted by, a lithe twisting figure that eluded her younger grasping hands.

"Fuck," Shego cursed under her breath, following in Kim's wake.

Twenty paces in, there was a muffled crumpling noise, the floor reverberating enough to knock the two women to the ground, coming to a screeching jarring stop against the outside shell of the corridor. Behind them, metal squealed and twisted, steaming water gushing in from what once was the solid walls, now twisted together by the titanic forces.

"Run!" Shego shouted as the super boiled water almost immediately evaporated, filling the corridor with super heated steam. She jumped to her feet, hauling the hero up and the two sprinted into the darkened corridor. If the entire corridor collapsed, the current might damage their suits or run them onto something jagged and unfriendly. If that happened, they would be flash boiled.

Ten paces later, the lights went out.

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The three men were wearing bulky armoured atmos suits. Bright lights set inside their helmets illuminated their strained, stubbled faces, as deepwater LED flood lamps shone before them. The backs of their arms also had focused beams of light, which played back and forth as they conversed among themselves.

Ron had held his index finger to the "STEALTH" button for three agonizing seconds on his forearm control before it activated and he faded from sight.

Awesome! I'm like Predator! With a sudden jolt, he felt a surge of relief and as sense of power and control. This is so cool. and useful too since he still hadn't mastered the ninpo technique of fading from sight like the other ninjas.

He floated straight to the men who stood on the hull, upside down, their heavy boots somehow adhering to the surface. Was it Ron that was upside down, or were they? He wasn't sure. As he approached, he realized that he wouldn't be able to hear what they were saying and with Wade's SQUIRT system destroyed, he wouldn't be able hack into the local communications channels, let alone call for help.

The men were gesturing at each other as they talked. It struck Ron as if he was watching a silent movie. The one in the lead pointed at the pylon that Ron had struck. The three men hefted their long-barrelled, gun-like devices and began to make their way towards him. Ron had a brief moment of panic as the three goons headed his way as he considered his detectability. He recalled how there was a strange ripple effect in games and in movies and wondered if he needed to swim away from the headlamp or arm lights that waved wildly around as the suited men approached, then he thought back to Kim telling him about her fight with Warmonga when she had briefly volunteered to be Drakken's sidekick when he had fooled her into thinking that he was The Great Blue. Even a battle hardened alien like Warmonga had not been able to detect the heroine when she activated her invisibility.

The three men finally arrived at the pylon and the leader floated back the way Ron had come. Ron frowned, when it had appeared that he had only travelled twenty feet as the man stopped and examined the dent, floating around the long metal cylinder. He returned, directing the other two men with gestures and pointing at the foot of the metal shaft and after flipping down darkened visors, they placed the nozzles close to the base of the cylinder and triggered the devices. Ron flinched away as blinding light appeared from where the sticks contacted the metal.

Sticks... were those stun sticks? he wondered to himself. His visor dampened the brightness emitted by the sticks as the men cut the metal shaft from the base. He glanced back at the entrance the men had exited and swam towards it.

The portal was swung wide open, the hatch secured to the hull.

Ron considered his next move. This place wasn't on the schematic that Rufus had sent using Wade's special Department of Defence satellite feed. After a moment of thought, he called up the display of the map, wondering if his suit had traced his unexpected swim. The dot placed him in the middle of a dark expanse. Nothing. He zoomed out and eventually the lair appeared, a almost four hundred feet above him. He was so far from the lair, near an enemy base. He could still do some good, he considered.

His decision made, he swam up into the open hatch and into a metal corridor that was ringed with lights. The hatch at the end of the corridor was Shut with what appeared to be magnetically sealed locks. Ron sighed. He'd have to wait for the goons to finish whatever it was they were doing and sneak in when they returned from their work. He swam back and peeked over the edge of the external hatch. The men had just finished their cutting. almost imperceptibly at first, the cylinder began to float free, trailing long coils of wire. The leader hobbled under as quick as he could manage with a hydraulic wrench and twisted free the connectors before pulling the wiring apart. The other two men walked a short distance away as another hatch opened, this time lifting out then sliding back along the shell. Each pulled disk with a handle fashioned on one side and a glowing orange yellow crystal on the other and pointed at something inside. With a familiar orange yellow glow emanating from the disks, another cylinder lifted out of the shell. Turning slowly, the men carefully lifted out a new pylon and brought it to the exposed cut. The leader donned a large bulky glove from his belt and carefully reached inside the glowing zero gravity shield, gingerly pulling the cables free and attaching them. They then put the pylon in place as the leader began welding. After a moment one of the men holing the pylon in place switched off his beam and began welding opposite of the leader. Finally all three completed the weld. They stood around while the leader was speaking and gesturing, probably to henchman control, Ron thought. White light ran from the base of the pylon and raced along it, disappearing in the murky, turbulent dark.

After a moment, the three men began making their way towards the hatch and towards himself.

The goons walked to the lip of the hatch and reached in, gripping inset handles and flipping inside. They placed their feet against the wide threshold of the hatch as it swung closed. Ron swam up to the leader as the man turned around and waved a hand in front of the man's face and grinned when the man didn't respond. He made a few goofy faces, and almost laughed when the man gave no reaction. He. gave a mischievous grin and swam behind the man next to him and lifted the other man's hand to smack the leader in the behind. The leader turned angry eyes on the surprised subordinate and gave him a furious stared full of terrible promise.

The water was pumped out and as the water disappeared through vents near the men's feet, Ron made sure he was behind them; he didn't know if the invisibility would be affected by the water that beaded his suit, but best not to tempt fate. With a clank and a whir, the above hatch opened and as a ladder was lowered into the lock, Ron looked up and saw plenty of piping. Excellent! she crouched and closed his eyes.

He'd seen Yori and the other Yamanouchi students walk on air and if this was going to happen, it was now or never. He'd never been able to do what Yori had told him, namely to feel his own flow of chi. It had always been masked by the writhing coiling of the mystical monkey power. He concentrated, exhaled as the men clambered up the pipe as fast as they could in the awkward and bulky suits. He couldn't find the itching slithering power of the monkey madness but he felt something else, a small wiggling feeling inside his head, inside his heart. Instead of straining, he relaxed further, reaching for what felt like a Naco coma, the times he'd binged so much that his brain had completely ceased to function on a conscious level from a cheese induced haze. And as his mind cleared of his guilt and desperation, suddenly, the wiggling connected and his feet and hands tingled. Ron exhaled and opened his eyes... and jumped.

Clang!

He fell back, his head throbbing and struck the floor with a thump. Above him the hydraulic driven inner hatch closed and locked with a hiss and a clang.

There was a momentary flicker before the lights went out.

* KP ** KP ** KP ** KP ** KP ** KP ** KP ** KP ** KP ** KP *

She should have known.

When the lights went out while they were still forty feet out from the hatch at the bottom of the decline, she felt a shiver of intuition. Princess's nerdlinger friend had created a work of art; as the light died, phosphorescent night vision flickered to life on their helmet screens, everything bathed in a strange green glow. Kim's lithe form sprinted in front of her, the splashes of her footfalls spraying up in iridescent bursts as the girl ran for the hatch.

"Comin' through!" Shego yelled as they reached the metal portal. Kim immediately jumped out of the way as the ex-villainess charged forward and delivered a double fist strike right next to the wheel. The portal rang like a gong, their bodies absorbing the reverberations. The hatch squealed, the massive hinges bending under the blow, caving in as the edges caught. Shego and Kim both spun in mirrored tandem, delivering perfectly executed spinning reverse roundhouse kicks directly adjacent to the first strike and the portal popped through, the sealing edges cracking and tearing free, the dented disk bouncing several times before crashing into a console of computers. Inside there was the flicker of fire and with a quick simultaneous nod, the two women leaped through the door, Shego sliding through crosswise to the right side, Kim crossing behind her and moving left.

The room was filled with broken and static displaying monitors. Electrical fires were burning wildly at several consoles in what appeared to be a control room, complete with several larger monitors that had come loose of their wall and ceiling moorings and we hanging haphazardly, their fractured screens casting flickering patterns. The women cased the room, Kim continuing left along the curve of the dome shaped room and Shego moving in the opposite direction. The floor was canted downwards; Kim was moving towards the bottom while Shego approached the top. Water was still flooding in. Shego noted the quickly rising water level; the light was starting to fade as the water doused the fires.

Unable to wait any longer, she rushed over to the portal, picked up the three ton disk with a grunt and lugged it over to the threshold. She jammed the portal back in and performed a quick weld, her display flickering against the sharp brightness of the melting metal under the high intensity plasma arcing between her index and middle fingers. The trickle of scalding water slowed, then stopped. When she turned, Kim was on the far side, just finishing her circuit of the large room. But something else caught her eye. Something in the water. A short, squat figure, with a gleaming hand, pointing a silver finger with a retracted tip at the oblivious redhead.

Time slowed as comet powered adrenalin flooded into Shego. Electric green power drove a shiver of dread scurried along the comet reinforced nerves. Memory, long forgotten, rose in her power induced haze, superimposing upon reality.

"Kim!" Shego screamed.

The hero and the superimposed memory flipped backwards without a hand plant towards the charging woman as fire and smoke belched, the index finger spitting cone shaped projectiles in rapid fire. Three missiles passed harmlessly by. One struck Kim in the side, spraying circuits from her utility belt, the blue trim flickering and dying. The impact spun her past two more missiles before, another hit her square in the stomach.

The teen hero folded over in a jumbled slump.

The shadow shrouded lanky form sprawled backwards in a twisted heap.

The green woman reacted unthinking, her hands glowing bright, as she stared at the surprised shock on Kim's face, the sea-green eyes dilating with pain

Kim mouthed a round silent "oh".

Shego's pulse thundered in her ears, her vision blurred red, wavering in a sudden tidal wave of fury. She staggered as she turned to face the short, maniacally grinning man.

The human body can produce approximately eleven thousand watt hours, although much of it is insulated into minuscule micro-volts. Shego's electrical potential had once been measured at just over two million volts, and that was when she was still in Team Go, seven years ago, a teenager trying to find herself in the midst of personal turmoil against a backdrop of a suffocating hero image.

Gemini's eyes glittered like wet stones as he turned, his rocket finger tracking toward her as the air around her crackled and hummed. Her hair rippled as if struck by a sudden steady breeze. Green light spilled from her eyes, two glowing beacons of bright green. A bright viridian corona spiked, casting star shadows around her clawed hands. The memory of those words goaded her.

Gemini threw up his hands, squinting against the brilliant twined flames that threw themselves forward simultaneously.

A deafening crackle split the moist air at the passage of a massive green bolt flew from Shego's forcefully thrust hands. Pipes burst and cables snapped, console screen burst from the resultant heat, wiring insulation melting and baring sparking currents. Sparks rained down, leaving carbon singe marks, but somehow, floated away from the glowing woman and the collapsed figure she stood before.

The beam impaled Gemini in the chest.

For a full three seconds, a small piece of the sun found itself over sixteen thousand feet below sea-level.

When Shego came to her senses, she had fallen to her knees, her hands curled into clenched, shaking fists, spasmodically twitching before her. The acrid smell of burnt metal filled the air. Beside her, Kim lay curled around the spreading red that seeped from her torso in a fearsome puddle.

She suddenly realized what she had done, and she wanted to vomit. Even before, she had never lost control like that.

"I had to Kim, I had to... I had to..." she was mumbling, unable to bring herself to touch the injured hero who lay, groaning, her hands clutching her abdomen. She couldn't bring herself to look at the body lying mere feet from them.

"Sh'go," Kim moaned.

"I- I'm sorry Kimmie, please... please don't,... I had to..."

Kim swallowed before reaching out a hand and touching the comet-powered woman's arm. She flinched at the red-head's touch.

"S'kay, Sh'go," Kim gasped out. Her words were preceded by another low guttering cry. "Sh'go... Sh'go... you... need... take out... the missile." The glowing green eyes flicked up to Kim's face in terrified realization. Gemini's finger missile had not detonated. There was a live warhead lodged in the red-head's stomach.

"I can't Kim! I can't..."

"Passage blown... no way down... c'n see mag wave... right?" Shego stared at the hero in disbelief. How had the woman known that she could see magnetic waves? It was a skill she used to locate and identify passive and active security measures; electrical currents produced minuscule magnetic fields, but her sensitivity was so acute, she could detect even the slightest variations within a hundred yard radius. Fast moving projectiles generated fields strong enough from kinetic displacement to be easily visible.

"But.. but Kim..."

"Claws... good enough." Kim's hand clutched Shego's arm. "You gotta!"

She stared into the hero's agonized and determined expression and nodded.

"All... alright Kim. Just... just lie flat."

Kim groaned as she turned onto her back, releasing the mint-green woman. Immediately, Shego reached up, placing her thumb and index finger on the red-head's temples and a spark jumped imperceptibly, straight through Kim's frontal lobe. The tormented lines on the woman's face relaxed and her hands slipped to thunk on the metal floor.

She took a deep breath, trying to settle her nerves, then stared at the wound, her mind feeling for that presence. The missile was self propelled and although it had started slowly, it had flown very fast; the projectile should have picked up some sort of residual electrical charge. She closed her eyes and put her hands flat against Kim's stomach, reaching deep inside herself, trying to ignore the gnawing, debilitating terror that wriggled and writhed against her control. For long moments, she could see nothing. Her frustration rose as she desperately tried to relax and focus, like trying to see a thee-dimensional image hidden in a confused mosaic pattern.

_I can't do it. I can't find it!_

She tried to ignore the warm slick wetness that throbbed against her hands. She tried to forget that Kim's life depended on her, of all people. She thought she was going to fail when suddenly, the finger missile snapped into focus. And she knew.

_I can do this._

With her eyes still closed, Shego shoved her fingers deep into Kim's belly before she lost the image. The fingers went in with a sickening squelch, right up to her last knuckle. She smoothly drew out the rocket and stumbled to her feet. Staggering a few feet away and set it slowly on the ground. What she saw when she turned made her shiver with dread.

Blood was now leaking from Kim's wound steadily. She rushed back to the wounded hero's side.

"No, no nonononono!" Shego's hands were frantic as she smoothed the hair from Kim's pale face.

_Okayokayokay... pressure... stop the bleeding..._ Shego didn't want to see the gaping hole in Kim's stomach as she pressed her hands over the scorched cloth. Bright red blood seeped slowly but steadily between her fingers.

Kim's battlesuit had never had to deal with a full trauma like this before; Shego's own cuts back on the oil rig were nothing compared to a finger missile to the gut. The battery had taken a direct hit, but the unexploded middle finger rocket was lodged deep inside the girl, and the blue sparkle along the electric blue trim was despairingly absent. There would be no emergency pressure or medication now.

"Shit... shit shit shit!" Shego cursed. She couldn't move the girl, and with the corridor collapsed behind them, there was no backup.

"Not g'd... huh?" Shego started, and saw Kim watching her. She looked back down quickly, still not able to meet the hero's gaze. She studied the flow of blood seeping between her fingers, all dark and sticky. Had it stopped a little?

"Yeah, Princess... it's not looking good." For a few long moments, they were silent, but for the occasional pop as another console screen popped from heat and Kim's laboured breathing.

"'S alm'st way... I wan'ed to go..."

"Almost?" Shego blinked furiously, her eyes suddenly burning.

"G'rl... of m' dreams... on mis'on... doin' g'd... just... didn't f'gure... th' smell..."

"The... smell...?" Shego's head whipped around and stared at Kim, but the sea foam eyes had closed. It was then that she noticed.

The heat from the flames was heavy and thick.

The stench was thicker.

She turned her head slowly towards the body that lay nearby. She recognized the smell.

"What,...?" her eyes clouded in confusion. Gemini's body didn't just smell of death induced bowel release. It smelled... like... like... Shego's eyes widened in shock and confusion. She knew of only one reason why a recently destroyed body might smell like a months old corpse. "No... no, it can't be..."

And out of the dark, a voice spoke, spiking her horror to incomprehensible levels.

"Oh, but it is, Sweet-pea."

Shego didn't want to look. She really, really didn't want to see if it was real. But she couldn't help it as her eyes travelled from the months old corpse to the dark figure that emerged from the recesses of the opposite airlock.

It was a malignant darkness that oozed across the floor. Shego let go of Kim's injury and wrapped her arms around the slim waist, pulling her desperately as she scrambled away from the sinister aura as it pushed into the remains of the control room. Kim groaned as Shego dragged her across the floor, her arms holding the red-head as she pushed frantically at the floor with her bodysuit's stealth-padded soles. A whimper of terror escaped her writhing lips.

A booted foot nudged Gemini's body.

"You know, I've never had to keep one of my drones animated for so long. A bit rancid now," the smile made Shego shiver. "Still, useful in getting things done."

The figure, tall, and dark and glowing with destructive malevolence paused in the middle of the control room, the bright electrical fires unable to penetrate the dark glow. Hands on his hips, the tall, emaciated, desiccated face broke into a fierce maniacal grin.

"Miss me, Sweat-pea?"

She was suffocating. She couldn't breath. Her limbs wouldn't work. Her head was tingling so much she couldn't think. What came out of her lips was a dreadfully small, lost sound.

"D-daddy?"

The man walked casually toward her as she scrabbled backward, awkwardly holding Kim to her chest and shoving with her feet.

"You know, honey," the man grinned, "this feels awfully familiar, doesn't it?"

She fetched up against the bulkhead of the control centre and clutched the bleeding red-head to her.

"What was her name... what was it...? Ah!" he snapped his rotten fingers. "Mayumi, wasn't it?"

The name was like being shot, like Kim had been just moments ago. Shego whimpered, suddenly felt very cold and very small.

"But..." he drew out the sound. "There's a big, big difference this time around."

"This... this time," Shego croaked a reply, nonplussed.

"Well, yeah, Sweet-pea." He stooped down, his ugly, puss-glistening face just inches from her's. "You can save her."

"What? How?" Shego glanced at Kim's face, the girl's breath coming in fitful pants.

"Ah-ah-ah," the dark man waved a finger under her nose. "That would be telling, and really, you know me. I won't do anything that won't help me. So I'll give you one guess what I want from you."

Shego couldn't forget, no matter how much she had tried to run from it.

"You... want... me."

"And only you. I mean really, your brothers are more powerful or smarter, but then they have their... issues. You, on the other hand,... the pragmatist, the warrior. Small wonder I named you out of all shi-go, the great hand of death."

"No... no... I won't. I can't!"

"I don't think you understand the stakes here, Sweet-pea. You don't want to save your brothers from me?" He stood up, and folded his arms across his cavernous chest. He glanced down as Shego clasped the redhead tighter. "Or save your lover?" Shego's rocking stilled, her face shadowed.

"What... do you mean?" she choked out. "Kimmie's... I can... save... her?"

"Oh sure, but it better be soon," the man waved a hand dismissively. Shego surged to her feet, Kim falling in a groan. Her fists, glowed brightly as she drove herself against him. A flare of darkness held her at bay. She screamed and snarled, her claws attempting to find purchase against the aura, but it held her fast. The shadow gently and inexorably wrapped itself around her neck, fading to reveal an arm, protected against her razor claws and blistering fire.

"Listen. Now!" He roared into her ear, each word emphasized by a bone rattling shake. Shego stilled under the intense stare of the man's single eye, her father's single eye."I will tell you how to save your... paramour, but you know what I want, don't you." He pulled her close, the exposed nasal passages under the flap of skin that was almost a nose glistening. "And you keep your promises, don't you, Sweet-Pea? Just like mommy."

"What... do you... want...?" Shego's muscles bunched and strained as she attempted to pull the hand from her throat.

"Oh, the same as the last time," his voice, insouciant and bored, "what I've always wanted, my dear."

"Spell it... out... freakshow..." Shego gasped out. Her father jerked her close and he said, singsong in her ear.

"Join me... as my heir..." He cocked his head. "Or really, an heiress, to the throne that I will forge in this world."

"Fuck that! I'd never, not in a million!" Shego resumed her struggling.

"Really? Not even to save your bitch?" With a crowing laugh, the glowing black aura threw Shego to the floor. She twisted neatly and rolled with the fall, coming to her feet, her hands blazing a bright green.

"Go ahead! Attack me! Try it! But my glow has become more powerful than you can even imagine since we last met, my dear. Attack me now," he turned back to her and pointed at the figure breathing shallowly on the cold metallic floor, "and your precious Princess will bear the price." The comet-powered woman's face twisted with agony, her breath coming hard and fast, faster and faster, until it built to an ear-splitting roar. With all her might, she roared, her arms wide, her back arched.

The green blaze winked out, and Shego bowed her head, her black hair falling to curtain her face.

"Fine. You win," her shoulders sagged in defeat. She knelt by the rapidly paling girl, the blood a large pool beneath. She drew the girl's head into her lap, brushing away loose hair from her face. "Tell me what to do."

"Call me daddy first."

"Fucking tell me!" she screeched, her head whipping up. One leprous eyebrow rose.

"And say please." Shego shut her eyes, slowing her breathing.

"Please... Daddy... tell me how to save Kim," she grated out. And as the man's booming laugh rang in to small confines of the spherical room, she closed her eyes and bowed her head again. "Please... please tell me how to save her..."

"Let's board the Leviathan," the man said after the metal of the stressed control room groaned in a heartbeat's hesitation. "It wouldn't do to have us both boiled alive by lingering here too long. I'll tell you how when we're... safer. And make it snappy, Sweet-pea. She's getting pretty pale." With looking back, the hideous presence slunk back through the airlock. The massive portal began to swing shut.

Shego stared into the thick throbbing darkness and without a second thought, surged to her feet, with Kim in her arms. Red dripped from Kim's wound onto the floor, leaving a crimson trail behind as Shego carried the limp hero into the waiting darkness, the external airlock closing with an awful clunk as final as anything Shego had ever heard.

The hot water leaking from the welded door washed away the stain of Kim's lifeblood, boiling away any sign of their presence, as if they had never existed.

* KP ** KP ** KP ** KP ** KP ** KP ** KP ** KP ** KP ** KP *

**A/N:** _This concludes the first book of the series. WOW. It's taken so long to finish this, I'm feeling kinda giddy about it. I wrote this on my Galaxy Tab 10.1 with the Samsung plug-in keyboard and using Quickoffice Pro, the best document app on Android hands down! I hope to get a laptop this November and resume writing, or I might try putting Android on my old netbook._

_Anyway, thanks to you, the reader for your infinite patience both for how long it's taken to get here and with my mistakes in grammar, spelling, plot, diction... well just thanks, ok?_

_The next story has me changing my mind on a daily basis as to the title, but the front runners are "Of Tears and Terrors," "Of Humility and Horror" and "Of Sins and Sacrifice." I promised some people to finish Blue Jeans so it'll be a while before I do._

_Thanks again!_


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